Just A Little Something
by Dr Megalomania
Summary: Akito's perspective as he reflects on his life less ordinary ... When an accident threatens to cut his life even shorter ... Akito suddenly finds he's alone ... until a mysterious midnight visitor suddenly sparks his interest ... Akito/?
1. Reflection

Yo~!! And Welcome to My Little World of Weirdness!

I state for the record that, despite the fact I really, really wish I did, I don't own any of the official characters that will grace this story; the wonderful creator of Fruits Basket, how I love thee! How can I show my appreciation? By borrowing your characters and putting them in weird situations, of course!! And since this is a mere fanfiction, I shall make no money from it, and therefore shall not be sued!! Or at least that's the theory, but honestly, who'd sue a poor student like me? NO-ONE ANSWER THAT QUESTION!! Oh, oh!! I do own the small poem that is in this though . . . it's dedicated to a close friend because I love her, and she doesn't know! [winks] between us, ne? 

[Laughs] Also I don't pretend to have any Mastery over the language of Japanese or any clue as to correct grammatical structure. I put it in and hope it gets across the point I'm trying to make! And I don't pretend to be able to write any sort of accents so please don't hate me!!

Anyway, this IS my first piece of non-sucky FB fiction that I've had the guts to put up, bear with me okay? This was meant to be a one shot . . . but it kinda. . .*grew*. . . anyway, it's almost completely from AKITO'S personality . . . and I ignore flames, so if you disagree with my sympathetically Akito views but can't find a constructive way of telling me other than 'Akito Sucks [censored], Kyou is mine, die Tooru die' why waste time . . . mind you, it does add to my review tally . . . [gets idea] Flame, flame like you've never flame before!!

"Speaking"

*Stress/emphasis*

//Thinking//

++Titles – timewise ++

_Poem_

~ Just a Little Something ~

By Doctor Megalomania

Part One: Reflection

++Springtime++

Well then.

I glanced over at the only other person in the room. Well then, wasn't this a pretty kettle of fish. Here I was finally on my deathbed and the only person who could come to my aid was Honda Tooru. I won't bore you with the details of how I came to be here; suffice to say that I'm dying a lot sooner than I thought I would. I mean I knew I was dying, it's just I didn't think that my death would come at the hands of a reckless driver, a bright red car, and my own stupidity.

Yes, I'm going to admit it, I think. 

Now with my right eye bandaged, and my body covered with lengths of the tight white material, I think I will finally admit I have been very foolish for a very long time, I've been a child and worse . . . no one is sad to see me finally admit this. Even SHE isn't sad to see me shuffle off this mortal coil. I bet the idiot girl hasn't even realised I'm actually awake. She's sitting by the window, facing me, but ever so often she'll glance out the window. Her hands are restless as she flicks through a book, plays with a bit of sewing. 

She hums, and then stops as if she thinks it's the wrong thing to do, but then starts up again because it's in her nature to be so.

She can't be sad to see me go, what she thinks is that the dark presence over Yuki and the rest of the family is going now, and now everyone's going to be so very happy. Well then, hooray.

Hooray, the witch is dead the wicked old witch is dead.

I liked that movie. It's not often I see something that makes me smile for real, but I like that movie. 

It made me feel a little better once when I was very young, once when I was very ill. My mother showed it to me. I feel a smirk quirk my lips, anyone who looks at me seems to think I didn't have a mother, I did.

I had a very beautiful mother.

She was funny, she made me smile and she made me happy. She had dark, dark eyes, and very pale skin. I looked a lot like her, and sometimes she would pretend that she was looking in a mirror when she was looking at me. She'd brush her hair, and wonder aloud why her reflection wasn't doing the same thing. My uncle and auntie, who lived with us since my father died, thought we were crazy. I guess we were, we were deliriously happy, I can't tell you what happened to the outside world during this time, because my mind was always focused on her and she was always focused on me.

I think that's why I can't stand the outside. My mother was left very wealthy after my father died, so she quit her job so she could look after me. I had a very comfortable childhood . . . even though the three closest family members I had were all cursed. My mother was, her brother - my uncle, and her sister – my auntie were all cursed by the spirits. My grandmother committed suicide after she realised that all three of her children, triplets in fact, were all very, very cursed. Yet still, I lead a very happy little life then thanks to my beautiful mother.

I think she was trying to make up for the fact that I would one day – much sooner than anyone else my age – I would one day be lying here, in a bed, my life slipping from my grasp.

How melodramatic. Well then, what do you expect?

I am dying, you know. 

My mother wrapped me up in a blanket, and held me tight; she taught me to read, and how to write, she even taught me to paint, although I never really cared for it much. It's far too messy for my tastes, and I prefer to work with pencils, pencils are easier to control than paint, you don't have the unpredictability that colours will dry and turn a lighter shade, or that the colours don't set properly, and will run into the next colour you paint in. Pencils you don't have that problem, you can control what shade they are, and they stay that way, there is no drying period where they change their tone, no mixing. 

Primary colours that stay that way unless you decide to mix them. 

I like to control things. When everything is controlled, then nothing goes wrong, no body dies when everything is controlled. That's why I used to love fast rides, not because they were so scary, but because there was a ride that was going so fast and yet it was all under control. Nothing happened unless the controller deemed it so. The only time something goes wrong is when an outsider, say an engineer, or some dumb kid comes along and messes about with the track. It's the dumb kid, or that stupid engineer who disrupt the ride, not the controller.  

I don't go on fast rides any more.

Hatori wouldn't allow it, and my body is always too frail for them, but my mother and I . . . she almost bought a fairground for me, had my uncle not advised against it. My uncle was a very wise man, though you would have never have guessed it from the way he acted. He was very excitable, and dizzyingly energetic, he preferred women's clothing, and was wildly eccentric because he never felt like he fit in, he was the only boy in this set of triplets so he tried to hide and blend in with them. It hurts to look at Momiji, because my uncle was the last rabbit. Looking at Momiji is like turning on the lights after you've gotten accustomed to the dark. I can't see him without seeing my uncle, so I chose to keep the rabbit away. 

The fairground would have been easy enough to buy, but employing all the people and all the cost and expenses in the upkeep of the place would have drained the last of my mother's savings. 

Pity. I would have loved to have my own fairground; mother and I would have raced to the roller coaster every morning before breakfast. I think I would share it with my family, if I had one, and she was still here. Nothing is any fun anymore without her. 

Without her, the sunshine is no longer golden rays, it's just light.

Without her, the nighttime is filled with nightmares, not dreams of the next day's game.

Without her, staring out the window is just seeing a world . . . not seeing a sad place that has no chance of ever joining our games.

My mother was a wonderful woman, without her, I don't think I will ever know another happiness. 

Do you wonder what happened to her?

I try not to.

She didn't kill herself, she wasn't run over by a car, she didn't get a cancer and lose all her hair, she didn't get depressed and just fade away, she didn't die saving a child from a burning fire, she didn't fall from a helicopter, she didn't die from a heart attack, she didn't die choking on a bone, she didn't fall asleep in the bath and drown, she didn't get eaten by a lion, nor did she get blown up in a bomb. 

She died in a mousetrap, laid down by the idiot maid.

My mother was the last mouse of the Souma family.

She died in a mousetrap when we were playing hide and seek one sunny afternoon. Fairly stupid, such a big trap from her point of view could hardly have been missed, and yet . . . somehow she did. And that's why my mother died.

My mother died in a mousetrap because some idiot maid forgot the rules.

She died because the Curse trapped her in the form of vermin.

She died . . . and left me alone, to see the rest of my short life out staring out into a world without her.

I suppose . . . I suppose if I'd gone out more, maybe been a little kinder, maybe I would have been forgiven for my insanity after she died . . . 

The way I tried to punish everyone.

I call it 'insanity', others will call it 'calculated abuse'.

I'm actually a nice person.

I don't like the little bits in jam, but I like raspberry ripple ice cream with all the little bits of raspberry in it. Chinese Lemon chicken with plain boiled rice is my favourite dish, but I can't make rice balls very easily. Mine fall apart, or I can make them but they are small round blobs, rather than perfect triangles. I was born on the floor of a empty bus, with the bus driver tired and ranting, my Uncle trying to pursued him to drive them to a hospital, my Auntie, and Father coaching my mother as she tried with all her might to push me out. She said she wanted to hold me more than anything else, that's why she pushed so hard. I was a little slow to cry at first, I was a quiet child. They knew I was cursed as soon as my Auntie – the last Cow, a woman with a high pile of white hair coiled on top of her head, and two braids of black hair trailing down her back – commented quietly on my unusually blue eyes.

My father glanced at his sister-in-law with concern, and hesitantly handed me over to my mother. She turned into mouse, and almost dropped me, but for the few seconds she held me before turning into a small grey furry rat, she said were the best seconds in her life.

I like to believe her.

She seemed so sure, the way she waved her hands as she told me about the way they flagged down the bus on the way back to the depot. 

My mother was so nice.

Idiot maid, idiot outsider.

All outsiders are idiots, look what they do to my family, and even if they are some distant relative to the family, they cause pain. The rabbit and his mother . . . look at the pain she caused him, no child should find out his mother regrets his birth . . . Hatori and that outsider Souma, they might have thought they were happy but I . . . I couldn't allow it, no, I won't allow them to hurt my family. They are mine, my family. Mine alone, and if they trust me, I can colour their lives just right before I die. I can fix it so they will all lead lives that they will be happy with, I can!

I've made some mistakes, losing my temper with Hatori, Kisa and Hiro, and Yuki . . . yes, yes . . . mistakes, but I could change that too. I am the Souma Clan head, I could make sure that they are happy, and no idiot outsider is going to change that.

Without me, their sunshine would be nothing but . . .

I miss my mother.

The way she sang on rainy days.

I'm crying?

The way she'd play the mirror game.

. . . Why am I crying, I've never . . .

The way she would hug me, turn into a mouse and just scamper over my shoulders and tickle me.

Now that idiot outsider girl's noticed. I . . . I don't want her here, I turn my head. No idiot outsider will change the way my family are, no idiot outsider is going to kill my family . . . my only family . . .

I want my mother.

"Akito . . .-sama?"

I look up at her, "What?"

It's hard to speak, when things you forgot about your mother decide to come back, reminding you painfully of the day you found her, her naked body bloody and crushed.

I hate idiot outsiders; I hate mice for being so foolish.

They both think they can be so clever, but really they just can't see the bigger trap. I close my eyes, I just want to protect everyone, is that so much to ask?! I don't want Shigure to get run over by a car one day because he was turned into a dog, and didn't see when the lights changed from red to green. I don't want Hatori to suddenly drown because some idiot outsider put him in a tank of the wrong kind of water. I don't want Kisa to be shot because some idiot outsider thinks she's a dangerous animal. I don't want Hiro to be eaten, because some idiot outsider suddenly gets a craving for lamb. No idiot outsider is having Momiji for luncheon, with half a loaf of bread for dipping into stew. I don't want some idiot outsider to capture Ritsu and earn some money as an organ grinder with a dancer monkey. No gilded cage for the bird, no riding spurs for the horse. Ayame will continue to run his store for perverted men, and their 'men's fantasies' and will not end up as some idiot outsider's boots. Yuki . . . Yuki will never suffer the same indignity as my mother.

Even the stupid cat.

I even feel I should protect him. Because when everyone finds out what he really is, who he really is, no one else will understand him.

They think I don't understand what it's like to be rejected by everyone who you love.

They think I don't understand what it's like to stand out in a crowd of people because of the way you look.

They think I don't understand what it's like to be one of them because no one is allowed to touch them . . . 

They think I don't understand . . . I do, I just don't care.

I've been rejected by everyone in the family, even though I love them, since my mother died in a mouse trap, my uncle's car was hit by a truck driver on the wrong side of the road, and my Auntie tripped over a stupidly placed towel at the local swimming pool, and cracked her head open. 

I stand out in my cursed family because I look the most normal, I may have startling blue eyes, but I have dark hair, dark black hair. Not a startling orange like Kisa or the stupid cat. Not a subtle purple, or dark green like Yuki or Hatori. My hair won't grow to an astounding length like Ayame or Ritsu, nor will it be a strange sort of blonde like Hiro or Momiji. Even Shigure's hair flashes dark blue when you catch it in the right lights. When I am amongst them, it hammers home the fact that I am completely drab looking compared to them. 

And more than any of them I understand what it's like not to be touched . . . only in my case it is not because no one is allowed to touch me, but because no one wants to touch me. For some, I am a cold thing; I'm too cold to touch. For others, I'm a hot item; I will burn you if you try to handle me. But to most, I am a sharp object; press too hard and I will cut you. 

They think I don't understand . . . I do, I just don't care.

Well then.

If they don't want to see the real me, they can't . . . if they don't try . . . they won't. And even if they try, I won't let them. All they'll ever see is this angry, cold, sick twisted little bastard, and serve them right for not even trying!

If they don't want to see me as I really am, the Akito that spends ages searching his chicken fried stir fry for shrimps, and pulling out the scrambled egg . . . or the Akito who can sing every song from 'The Wizard of OZ' and 'The Sound of Music' . . . or the Akito who likes fast rides and scary movies but gets squeamish about splinters . . . then fine. I'll keep him all to myself. 

I don't need anyone else.

I don't want anyone else.

And now I'm dying . . . I'll never want to need or want to need anyone else as long as I . . . 

_Just a little something,_

_Just something to warm your cold heart. _

_Just a little something more,_

_To give you a smile._

----------------------------

And Now It's Time to LEAVE IT TO DOCTOR MEGALOMANIA!!!  
DrM: Konnichiwa!! [waves] I'm Doctor Megalomania, and this is my first 'Fruits Basket' fanfiction . . . is it good? Do you think I should continue? [big chibi-watery eyes] Please tell me!! Please press the review button!! 


	2. Revisited

Yo~!! And Welcome to My Little World of Weirdness!

I state for the record that, despite the fact I really, really wish I did, I don't own any of the official characters that will grace this story; the wonderful creator of Fruits Basket, how I love thee! How can I show my appreciation? By borrowing your characters and putting them in weird situations, of course!! Oh, oh!! I do own the small poem that is in this though . . . it's dedicated to a close friend. [Laughs] Also I don't pretend to have any Mastery over the language of Japanese or any clue as to correct grammatical structure. I put it in and hope it gets across the point I'm trying to make! And I don't pretend to be able to write any sort of accents so please don't hate me!!

"Speaking"

*Stress/emphasis*

//Thinking//

++Titles – timewise ++

_Poem_

~ Just a Little Something ~

By Doctor Megalomania

Part Two: Revisited

When I awoke . . .

What? You thought I died already? No, no such *luck* yet.

Anyway, when I awoke, it was already nighttime and I found that even the ever genki-Tooru had deserted me. Brilliant. Not even she won't be here when I –

A slight rustle, a movement out of the corner of my eye.

There is someone in my room. 

If it's an idiot outsider I'll kill them, I'll KILL them. I will not die in front of an idiot outsider, I won't. I won't die with such scum watching over me!! How dare they make me suffer this!?

I blinked my good eye open, as I hear a quiet voice.

"Akito-sama?"

It sounded familiar; I glance over at the small woman. "Who are you?"

The figure moved closer, she was slim, with long hair delicately piled atop her head with two traditional hair chopsticks placed gracefully there. She seemed like a fine porcelain figurine, the kind my auntie used to collect. She loved them, even though she often ended up breaking them, my auntie was insufferably clumsy, she broke almost everything and anything, she was the proverbial bull in a china shop. 

This woman, though engulfed in the shadows, moved with grace and elegance . . . I could see it. I could see it just in the way she stood. Do I sound intense? It must be the drugs they keep me on . . . I've been finding lately my focus drifts, until I find something of interest . . . something like . . . her . . .

The woman made a startled noise, a quiet choking sound deep in her throat, before she whispered, "Akito-sama . . ." She murmured sadly, she reached out, and for once, her hand strayed into the path of some light. My fine porcelain doll had fine porcelain skin, milky and gentle looking. She softly - so softly I barely believed it was happening - traced my eyebrow, and I felt my frown smooth out. She was so soft with me, I felt almost as if someone was forgiving me. 

Incredible, it was an incredible feeling. 

You can't possibly understand what this feels like. Just staring up at this china-doll, her fine milky, gentle fingers slowly, softly tracing my eyebrow . . . it was so soft! My fingertips tingled, I wanted to reach up and grab her wrist tightly so she couldn't run away. I want her to stay here. I don't care if she has to leave . . . I don't care if the world is falling down . . . I want her to stay. I don't think anyone has touched my face so softly since my mother died. 

"I'm sorry . . ." My china-doll breathes, more to herself than to me. "I shouldn't have come."

Without waiting for word from me, she slips back into the darkness, and across the room. I strain myself just to turn my good eye toward the door, as warm yellow light from outside briefly lights her features. The pain comes again, familiar and raw, making me lie back again, and squeeze my eyes shut. My lungs struggle to breathe, and for a moment my mind panics. It's overwhelming, the sensation of fear . . . it's overwhelming, but calming . . . in the same brief moment, as I stared at her, her delicate eyelashes resting demurely against her cheek, the way her lips – pale but for the lightest touch of lipstick – parted as she breathed, yes . . . the calm I felt as I saw her. It all lasted for less than a second . . . But it was enough, the pain I feel from my wounds is enough payment for the glimpse I got of my china doll. 

She wore a purple kimono. 

My mother favoured those.

She is a beautiful china doll.

Waking hurts.

When you are very badly hurt, sick - or in pain like I am - you don't wake up like you do normally. You awaken enough to realise that your body is still asleep; your mind quietly takes inventory of what still hurts, where it still hurts, and realises that your body is still asleep. The nerves that were sedated enough to keep your body asleep begin to awaken too, the biological painkillers that your body made ebb away, leaving you as if in the waking hours you can manage without them. I suppose as a survival mechanism it keeps you sharp, when you're out in the wilderness or something like that . . . 

I wake to Hatori fussing over me. I stare at him silently.

He didn't just leave me to die alone.

I'd smile, and thank him gratefully, if it didn't make me realise how close to tears I am. That makes me angry; it's his duty to take care of me like this . . . why should I feel anything just because he is doing his job?

And yet, his silent contemplation of my statistics warms me. Hatori is a good doctor, quiet, dependable, and a very good doctor. I'm glad he was the doctor and not Shigure. Can you imagine . . .?

Doctor Shigure will see you now . . . Please leave your underwear at the door!!

It brings a snort from me, and Hatori looks up. I meet his gaze, all mirth disappearing from my face. It wouldn't do if he commits me to a mental institution just because I've refused to even smile happily after my mother's death. What? I was in a prolonged state of mourning. You try being chipper when the only people who ever loved you, ever treated you like you weren't some sort of god, who treated you like . . . like you were just a child with a future ahead of you . . . when those people are gone, I'd like to see you be all so very happy!

He looks down at the clipboard again, before pulling a seat to my bedside. 

"You are very ill, Akito. I don't know if you will live."

Never one to pull the punches, I remember that much about Hatori. Hatori always tells me everything in the same manner. No matter how trivial, he always delivers it with the same look of collected calmness. My death sentence even comes without a sympathetic look, without hesitancy . . . I don't know whether to hate him or thank him, I think I'd rather hate him. I'd love to hurt him again . . . I know he is so happy that I'm finally going. I'm never going to be able to hurt him again, not like this, not while I'm lying in bed like this . . . but still, his face never changes. If it were Shigure, he probably would have made up some funny story, then messed about for a moment or two, hinting that he'd heard about a man in this position . . . I don't think he'd ever tell me I was about to die straight to my face like that.

Another snort wiggles its way from me. 

"So?"

Hatori regards me quietly, and then nods. He's not sad to see me die, I broke his heart, I broke his lover's heart. . . I broke his eye. He stood, and walked over to the small desk on the other side of the room. I watched him as he prepares some pills. I watched him as he poured a glass of water, and brought them over to my bedside. "Take these . . ." he motioned the pills; two pain killers and a sedative, "When you feel any pain."

He turns to leave. I watched him do that.

And then I did something very strange.

"I'm sorry, Hatori." 

He jerked – actually jerked – and stared at me coolly. I stared at him; his dark green eyes were blank. I suppose they had always been very blank, but since I blinded him, they were even more so. "I don't know why . . ." I muttered. Then thought about it.

"No . . ." I murmured, "I lie . . . I've always lied . . ." I swallowed and spoke louder, so he could hear me clearly. "I'm sorry Hatori, I know why . . . and so do you . . ."

He stood there, still staring at me.

I think he knows. I think he knows that I want to hurt him, anything to provoke an emotion from him. If I could, I'd stand, walk across the room and smack him. Smack him hard. Make him bleed. Make him cry. Make him curse. Make him do something other than stand there and tell me I'm dying so soon. Make him fetch my china doll. Bring her to me now.

Well. I can't get up. So I can't smack him. I can't make him do anything . . . but maybe . . .  

"It will be over . . ." I found myself smiling, ever so slightly, as I assured him, "It will all be over soon . . ."

It was a strange sort of lightness I was left with as he blinked and stared at me, shock actually flickering within those blank eyes. It was so strange, I'd always thought I had accepted my oncoming death . . . but this new level of acceptance made my previous attitude seem terrible. It was terrible, no illusions about that.

I turned my head slightly to see past Hatori.

"I'd like my bed to be moved, please."

". . . Where?" 

"To the window."

Hatori thought about it, looking at the various drips and machinery I was hooked into, "It will take some time . . . so we can wait until you are strong enough to survive for long enough without the bulk of these machines, but . . ." He glanced at the window, "I see no reason why it will not be allowed." He nodded once and stepped back.

"Hatori?"

He stopped at the door.

"Thank you."

He stared at me, as I stared out the window, I just stared, ignoring his searching gaze. He looked for my usual smirk, my usual hatred . . . he could find none, I simply wasn't angry enough anymore. Of all the feelings you can feel, anger is perhaps the most human like. Anger burns, anger can turn cold. . . and anger can just bleed right out of you. Like the blood that poured out of my wrist as I lay on the road, my anger bled from me. And it was all because of one thing . . . one instance of time. Then again, an instance of time can bring many things. You can die, you can be born, you can love, you can hate, you can laugh, you can cry . . . all in an instance, a moment of time. For me that instance brought something to me. 

I'd realised something . . . I missed my mother . . .

I was soon going to see her again.

My china-doll didn't appear the next night, nor the night after that, or indeed for the rest of the week . . . or the month . . . and I . . .

I didn't die.

I didn't get miraculously better no, but I didn't die either. They moved my bed to the window, where I lay until summer came. I continued to stare out all day, stare at the sky, the clouds, the blue, the purple, the greys, the stars, even the birds. Hatori visited regularly, keeping an eye on me. There was a nurse occasionally, a cleaner, once another doctor, whom Hatori brought in to look at my broken legs. He hmphed and tutted, and made funny sighing noises, before waddling out the room. Once or twice Tooru came. 

I think guilt made her come more than anything. 

I never saw any of the others from my family.

And my china-doll still remained elusive . . . until one summer night.

I awoke to see her sitting daringly on the end of my bed, she sat with her back to the window, and so her front was swallowed up in the darkness. She wore a darker kimono, and her hair was loosely gathered over one shoulder. One of her soft hands was clasped lightly over mine. She had larger hands than I thought; they were strong, slightly calloused, and warm. I liked that.

I liked the feel of her hand, it was not too heavy on my hand, she was being mindful of the drips I had in there. I was grateful for that. I wished that I could squeeze her hand back, tell her that I was awake, but I didn't want to startle my china doll, didn't want her to take flight and leave me again. 

Everything about her posture spoke of a life lead in the most humbling of positions, her family weren't very wealthy. Her family were used to serving the whims of others, I could tell that by the unconsciously attentive way she sat, as if I had her at my beck and call. She breathed so quietly, that if I couldn't feel the faint pulse of heart beat in her wrist against my fingertips, I would have called her a ghost.

She'd been brought up in the tradition of being unseen, and unheard. A hidden girl servant. How this humble being had managed to come into my private hospital room, in the middle of the Souma household was a subject yet to be raised, and yet, despite the fact she might have been a idiot outsider . . . I found myself enjoying her silent company.

What made her come to me?

What made her sit with me?

What made her accept me for who I am . . .?

Her distance from me, the way she was so delicately perched on my bed, made me think that she was aware of my personality, had heard things about me, and yet she appeared to accept this.

Maybe she was a masochist.

Maybe she'd let me be her master.

The warmth of her hand lulled me. The smell of her delicate perfume made me slow. I could easily fall asleep, as she sat by me . . . watching over me patiently.

My little china doll . . . a maid all to my own.

_I'd fall over, I'd walk into walls, I'd humiliate myself_

_Just for that little smile_

_You'll have to put up with my loud voice, my bad jokes, my awful singing_

_Just to make those tears stop_

----------------------------

And Now It's Time to LEAVE IT TO DOCTOR MEGALOMANIA!!!  
DrM: Konnichiwa!! [waves] I'm Doctor Megalomania, and this is my first 'Fruits Basket' fanfiction . . . is it good? Do you think I should continue? [big chibi-watery eyes] Please tell me!! Please press the review button!!


	3. Recounted

Yo~!! And Welcome to My Little World of Weirdness!

I state for the record that, despite the fact I really, really wish I did, I don't own any of the official characters that will grace this story; the wonderful creator of Fruits Basket, how I love thee! How can I show my appreciation? By borrowing your characters and putting them in weird situations, of course!! Oh, oh!! I do own the small poem that is in this though . . . it's dedicated to a close friend. [Laughs] Also I don't pretend to have any Mastery over the language of Japanese or any clue as to correct grammatical structure. I put it in and hope it gets across the point I'm trying to make! And I don't pretend to be able to write any sort of accents so please don't hate me!!

"Speaking"

*Stress/emphasis*

//Thinking//

++Titles – timewise ++

_Poem_

~ Just a Little Something ~

By Doctor Megalomania

Part Three: Recounted

So that continued like that. 

 Every three days Hatori visited, every four nights my china doll sat quietly. Once a week, after school Honda Tooru came to sit with me for an hour, before an impatient knock at the door made her jump. I knew the Stupid Cat, and Yuki stood outside my room. Refusing to come in but refusing her to enter my room without armed escort outside. I never spoke to her; she tried to speak to me at first, but soon gave up. I don't think anyone ever came to visit me other than my china doll, my doctor, and the idiot outsider. 

I don't think I mind.

The days seem to blend together; the hours pass slowly but without me noticing. I watch the sky turn from grey to blue, from blue to gold, to red to purple, to black, and then when I wake again, back to grey. I suspect it's coming into mid-summer, Hatori wears his sleeves rolled up; Tooru offers me glasses of juice rather than tea.

My china doll wears delicate, thin kimonos, they suit her. They make a pleasing sound when she paces as she thinks I'm asleep. I wish I could see her face, I've seen parts. She has a sharp chin and high cheeks, her genetic heritage must be linked to my own, maybe making her one of the lower ranking Soumas. Her hair is long, but she rarely wears it down, it's naturally straight but she makes it sit in coils. Her ears are un-pierced but for one lobe, where a simple silver and dark stoned earring studs her milky ear. It's a habit amongst the younger Juunishi, so I suspect she must have met some of them. Maybe her eyes were a deep amber, or perhaps a warm brown, I could only just make out that they weren't dark, nor were they blue.

But I would know about her.

I would know everything about her, Shigure always tells me everything that happens. 

Everything.

Yet my china doll's identity remains a mystery to me. 

Oh . . . I want to know everything about her. When that idiot outsider arrived, I knew everything about her within five days . . . now it's been several months and I know nothing.

As I lay in bed one very beautiful day, it occurred to me that I was in a state of limbo. I wasn't on the verge of death . . . nor was I jumping and leaping about like a little lamb. It occurred to me that I was not exactly dying as urgently as I had been. Maybe I was getting better.

There was a knock at my door.

Unusual.

I turned my head from my window, and stared at the door for a long moment. This wasn't part of my routine. I glare at the door, before barking out a weak, "Enter."

The first eyes I meet are that of Shigure. 

I stare at him. He stares at me. His expression is carefully blank. He doesn't want to incite my anger. I don't think I've seen him acting silly since the day I threatened to kill their little humming bird. Pity. I miss the laughs. 

"What do you want?"

"I came to see how you were doing . . ." Shigure waved his fan at me, "I thought you might like visitors . . ."

Beyond him Hatori, and Ayame stand. Ayame smiles at me, he's completely unaware of the danger that once lurked above his head. The beautiful eccentric fluttered in, walking up boldly to my bedside, and stared at me for a long moment, "You look better!" He exclaimed, and turned, "Don't you think? Akito-sama has some colour in his cheeks!" 

Behind him, I roll my eyes, and see Shigure's very quick worried look at Hatori. Ayame was always their iridescent humming bird, fluttering from one subject to another in a heart beat . . . I think I would kill him to stand still for a second . . . Sorry, did I say I'd kill him, I meant standing still, it would probably kill him. . .

Just because I said I regretted some mistakes I made, do not presume I will change my ways . . . my entire way of thinking. 

If people insist on irritating me expect to reap the fruits of my anger. 

Maybe I should invest in some sort of anger management . . . so I don't break my china doll. I think I would hate that, and myself if I broke her the same way I broke Yuki . . . I didn't mean to break him . . . oh well, I did, but . . .

I'm confusing myself now . . . damned painkillers. 

They keep my mind from focusing on a single point and explaining myself clearly. I hate that. Anyway, my concentration span is about as long as Ayame's now. The humming bird flutters about my room, unfailingly careful of the equipment keeping me alive, but irritatingly animated as he pokes at anything that doesn't appear to be attached to my body. 

Shigure calmly sits in a chair, while Hatori checks my pulse and my eyes. I stare at them, the three best friends, the three musketeers, three peas in a pod, two's company but three is more fun . . .

I snort.

Silence befalls my room. Ayame rushes over to my bedside, and peers at me, even Shigure's fan has stilled. Hatori raises an eyebrow, "Something funny?"

I turn my face away, and stare out with my good eye, "Nothing . . ." I rasp, swallow, and try again with a stronger voice, "Nothing you'd find funny."

He doesn't question further, but even in the reflection I can see Ayame's face contort with a sudden need to know. He purses his lips, and thinks about asking me, but stops when Shigure subtly kicks the back of his leg. I look away from my window and stare at Ayame, he stares back. The kick Shigure still serves as a warning, but there is a look in his eyes, something else that tells me his thoughts. He wishes I'd hurry up.

Just in that moment before the full force of his cheerful mask powers up, I see it. 

That look of pure disgust, he's disgusted that I'm alive still . . . still controlling his life . . . still having my complete command over Shigure . . . still posing a threat to Hatori . . . still scaring his sweet little brother . . .

That's it. 

The fact I'm still breathing, still the bogeyman to Yuki, creeping out of my dark little room and appearing where Yuki least expects it eats at him. He can't stand it, and he hates me for it. I never appear when Ayame has a chance to come to Yuki's side and use it as an excuse to try and strengthen his relationship with the damned mouse. No. I always time it so it takes him at least a few days before he can get free, because by the time he's able to come to his little brother's rescue, Yuki has already dealt with it. The dynamics of all their minds is so wonderfully predictable . . . it's almost like playing with a pile of sticks. The object is to pull one out by in a way that doesn't move the others. All you need is a steady hand, and a good eye for seeing what supports what. I pull my sticks, my appearances, so I can keep control of their relationship. If Yuki ever figured out his brother completely, I would lose the advantage I hold over him. 

Yuki doesn't know what it is to rely on someone else when you feel like the world is falling apart.

I want to keep it that way.

That way he will always have to be conscious of what is happening around him, and unlike my mother, he will not accidentally kill himself. 

What did you think?

You think I do what I do because I derive pleasure from it? 

I do.

I do derive some pleasure from it, the pleasure anyone feels when they succeed in something, when something they planned goes according to plan. So it hurts them. So it seems like a harsh way to deal with them. But when Yuki is capable of being so independent that he will fall for no trap, then my grand master plan will be complete.

I will not leave this world without protecting my family.

"What did you say?"

Shigure blinks and looks over at me. Clearly he didn't expect me to reply. He stares at me for a moment longer before smiling slightly; "I said I think Akito is sleeping."

"I'm not." 

"I can see that . . . now . . ."

Rolling my good eye, I look around. He was right, I had fallen asleep. Someone else had joined us while I was dozing. Ritsu Souma. Ugh. One person who will never fit. No matter how much I try and try to make the idiot do something, he just will not do it. He's so useless. At least today, he's acting like a man. Actually dressed as one for once as well. I stare at him as he steps hesitantly closer, clutching a book in front of him. "Ah . . . Akito-sama . . ." He breathes in and closes his eyes, "Hatori-san mentioned that you weren't having many visitors during the day time . . ." He gulps, and clutches the book harder against his small chest, "I thought perhaps you would like for me to read to you for a bit . . ."

I stare at him as if he's gone insane.

"Why?"

His eyes open, and he stares at me. "I thought . . ."

"You thought?" I begin, my voice is raspy, "That's a first, isn't it?"

Pain flashes across his features before he drops his head. Maybe he's crying. Whoops. 

Ayame looks incensed; he blinks with his strange golden eyes rapidly before turning on me. "One would have thought you'd be grateful, since no one else wants to visit you!"

My eyes widened. Then narrowed as I stared at his back. The humming bird turned to leave; Shigure's hand darts out to capture his wrist tightly. Ayame doesn't turn, and therefore doesn't see the look that Hatori and Shigure see. The look on my face as I glare at him for the insult. The look that told them both another mistake from him would result in my full fury. Not that I could do much . . .

Ayame wrenches his arm from Shigure; "Suck up to him all you like!" Ayame tossed his pretty silver tresses. I'll cut them off, first chance I get. He glared at me with unique gold irises. I'll spill ink in them. He opened his mouth to say something more, then thought better of it. He left. I lay there thinking of all the things I would do when I could get up. I have an oriental blade at home, stainless and decorated. It's still sharp, even though it's never been used. 

I'll slice his throat open.

"Leave." 

My anger strains my voice. My throat burns as I growl at them, "Leave!" Shigure glances at Hatori, and touches Ritsu with his fan. The three hesitantly turn to leave. Ritsu pauses, pausing too long for my liking so I reach out and grab the glass of water off the table. I throw it at them . . . weakly, the glass doesn't even break.

Shigure is out the door. Hatori glances back to check I haven't hurt myself before joining his best friends. 

The useless monkey stops and turns. He instantly picks up the glass, and holds it. "I'll get you another glass, Akito-sama." 

I close my eyes and lie back, the effort has exhausted me, and pain in my arm where a needle or two have moved slightly brings a horrible metal taste to my mouth. I breathe for a moment, aware that he's still standing there waiting for my order.

"You do that."

The door closes quietly and I try to order my thoughts while I wait for him to return. I forgot to ask Shigure to find out about my China Doll. How irritating.

The door opens a short while later, and Ritsu returns with a tray. He places it carefully on a desk, and pours water into the glass. He walks over and pauses before he sets it down. "Akito-sama?"

I look at him, trying to tell him without using my tired voice to go away.

He winces slightly before looking down, his voice is muffled as he speaks. "Akito-sama, I . . . I . . . I want to. . ."

"Lift your head!" I finally snap, I can't stand him babbling. "Stop speaking so quietly."

His head snaps up, and he doesn't quite meet my eye.

"Why are you here?" I ask, reaching for the glass, but falling short. He notices, and lifts the glass to my lips so I can sip. I stare at his hand as I drink. They are so small for a man, pale and smooth. I detest him for it. 

The glass is set down with a quiet chink and he draws a quiet breath.

"I . . . was there, Akito-sama, when you were run over . . ." He swallows, "I could have warned you . . ." 

Oh, for crying out loud. 

Is he going to get hysterical? Am I going to have to lie here and listen to him bemoan the fact that everything that's ever gone wrong with my life has ultimately come down to him. Because if he does, I'm going to call the nurse to have him sedated . . . or better, me sedated, so I don't have to listen to him. 

". . . I'm sorry."

I stare at him with my good eye, waiting for the rest of it. There is none. He gets up, and picks up some of the food. Is he going to feed me?

I stare at him for a long moment, as he offers a grape to me.

"That's it?"

"I know there is nothing I can do, but try and make you as comfortable as possible as you recover."

I stare at him again, "Why aren't you begging for my forgiveness?"

"Because . . ." 

He pauses, ah . . . this is why I'm not getting the full Ritsu-Hysterics. He looks up at me, and lowers the grape. "Because the moment of distraction was worth it . . ." he looks away, unable to hold my gaze much longer, "I found someone I want to say 'I was born to be with you' . . ."

I'm fairly proud of myself. For an invalid, I think I responded remarkably well. 

My left eyelid twitched slightly. More like a flutter of eyelashes. 

Aside from that, I didn't reach out and hurt him as much as I wanted to. 

He was in love. So what? The damned useless monkey did not matter to my grand scheme of things therefore as long as he didn't disrupt any of my other plans, he could do whatever he wanted.

"Who is it?"

"I'm not sure." Ritsu stared hard into his lap, clearly intimidated without his costume and make up. "I only saw him for a moment before you were run over."

"Was it the driver?"

"No."

He glared at him for a moment longer, "Will you see this mysterious person again?"

The reply was soft, and for a moment I could almost feel happy for Ritsu. The feeling in his voice as he admitted it.

"Perhaps."   

_~Silly faces for every sad one you wear_

_Willing arms for every time your knees fail you_

_One shoulder for every tear~_

------

And now It's Time To LEAVE IT TO DOCTOR MEGALOMANIA!!!

DrM: How's it going? Still interested?! Let me know, drop me a review!!  


	4. Remiss

Yo~!! And Welcome to My Little World of Weirdness!

I state for the record that, despite the fact I really, really wish I did, I don't own any of the official characters that will grace this story; the wonderful creator of Fruits Basket, how I love thee! How can I show my appreciation? By borrowing your characters and putting them in weird situations, of course!! Oh, oh!! I do own the small poem that is in this though . . . it's dedicated to a close friend. [Laughs] Also I don't pretend to have any Mastery over the language of Japanese or any clue as to correct grammatical structure. I put it in and hope it gets across the point I'm trying to make! And I don't pretend to be able to write any sort of accents so please don't hate me!!

"Speaking"

*Stress/emphasis*

//Thinking//

++Titles – timewise ++

_Poem_

~ Just a Little Something ~

By Doctor Megalomania

Part Four: Remiss

So I allowed Ristu to continue to visit me.

And with him, came the others. 

I suppose once they saw that I didn't take a scalpel the pretty little boy's throat, they thought I was finally tame enough. 

Ch'.

They don't know me well enough, I wouldn't take it to his throat, I'd take it to his face. I'd rather scar him for life, so that every day he'd have to look into the mirror and see that he was mine. Which reminds me, the first surprisingly was Yuki and that stupid cat. 

They came with the idiot outsider Honda Tooru. The stupid cat stood against the wall, and glared and snarled to himself. He stood there for all of five minutes before he left. Yuki stayed marginally longer, I think it was more a thing between them than it was about me. Yuki stayed only to annoy the stupid cat. He watched me. Watched what I did. Must have been interesting since I ignored them all, and stared out the window. I don't want visitors.

I only allow two to visit me, one I await with pleasure, the other comes to serve me.

My china doll increased her visits. She became so much more daring, confident. I wanted to knock her down again, I liked that she seemed more comfortable with me, but I . . . want to control her. If she becomes too confident, she'll fly away from me. And besides, she's mine. 

Possessive?

Maybe.

Jealous?

Of course.

Tonight, she wears a light perfume, probably dabbed behind her ears, and lightly on her wrists. I gaze at her openly, I don't know if she notices. If she does, she ignores me . . . if not, I'll make her notice me. I wish I wasn't so weak. To only reach up and touch her face. . . ah, that would be exhilarating. I wish she would talk, say anything, tell me her name. . . I still know nothing about my china doll. Shigure has come, without Ayame naturally, and I have never asked him.

Why?

Why have I never asked him about my china doll?

Because . . . because she is mine. I want to know her, but only . . . only what I learn from her, what words may fall from her lush lips, what feelings the touch of my hands bring from her. The movements of her body, how it responds to mine. I desire her.

Strange.

I've never felt this . . . strong desire, is this what Hatori felt for Kana? What Hiro has yet to transcend to with Kisa? The fact that I cannot touch her is alluring to me, the fact she fears me and yet still stays besides me charms me. . . my china doll will be mine, and soon she shall know it.

As for my other visitor. . .

The mornings, I wake to find Ritsu quietly tending to my breakfast. He rarely meets my eye, concentrating on his tasks. I have to admit, I thought he was much more clumsy. I suppose when he is not frantically worried about the impression he's making to new people, I suppose he makes a good servant. 

I've yet to find out who he thinks he's in love with.

Naturally, if it's an idiot outsider he will have to be punished, and Hatori will have to erase her memory. I will not have him, this bumbling foolish monkey, allowing the secret of the Souma's to be revealed again. It's bad enough that idiot outsider Honda Tooru knows. He never speaks of her; apparently content to spend his time thinking about her instead. I catch him gazing blankly out the window sometimes as I eat. His light amber coloured eyes are slightly glazed over, and he sits on the edge of my bed with his hands clasped gently in his lap.

I don't remember ever giving him permission to sit there.

But I don't really feel like ordering him away. 

When I look in his eyes I don't see the horrid expectancy I see in Ayame's, nor the cold blankness that I see in Hatsuharu's or Hatori's eyes. In Ritsu's I see . . . I see . . .

Love. 

I see that warm feeling he has for his 'loved one'. It's calmed him, centred him. As if he's had some sort of epiphany. Please! I roll my good eye and push the plate away feebly. Ritsu blinks, and comes out of his daydream. He smiles slightly, as I grind out weakly, "I've had enough."

He nods, and lifts the plate away and brings back the book and a glass. Placing the glass down beside my bedside, he stares out the window for a moment. I don't know what possessed me to ask, but I quietly demand that he tells me about her.

"Her?"

I raise an eyebrow, my good eye narrows at him. He's been here nearly everyday for the last three months, did he not expect me to ask. "Yes, yes!" I spit, "her!"

He tilts his head, still not understanding me.

"Stupid monkey!" I rasp, "her, this girl you've fallen in love with!"

Realisation dawns like the morning sun on his face, and fear wells up in his eyes. Aw, how precious, he thinks this bed bound invalid is going to harm his precious little girlfriend! I smirk as best I can, and stare at him. Maybe I will hurt her, maybe I will kill her. He doesn't quite know what I can do.

"I've not fallen for a girl . . ." Ritsu begins carefully, "he . . ." he pauses, and dips his head, "I've fallen for . . . a boy . . ."

"A boy?" The smirk disappears from my face, and I stare at him. Hmph, I supposed I shouldn't have guessed anything else from a cross-dressing useless monkey. What else was I thinking; no girl could ever love this freak. I roll my good eye again, and stare at him, tell me about him. "Why did he . . ." I pause and look him over frankly, "why would he fall for you?"

"He wouldn't." Ritsu clutches his book, "he couldn't."

"Then why even think about him?" I stare at him, I don't understand why he feels the way he does if he knows his feelings can't be given back to him. What's the point of wasting so much love on a pointless endeavour? 

"Because . . . he's so wonderful." Ritsu pulls his head up and looks at me, talking about his cruel lover gives him confidence enough to talk to his cruel clan head . . . how interesting. I will definitely have to crush this other. I will not have him give this pathetic monkey the ability to realise his own self worth. There is a difference between the damned useless monkey, and a confident one. A confident Ritsu, one who realises how very good at something he is, will change the dynamics of my grand master plan. Allowing Ritsu to become confident to the point where he creates another supportive figure in the cursed's inner family would ruin everything.

"What's his name?"

Ritsu blinks. His hands tighten against the book, as he stares at me. "I . . . don't want to tell you . . ."

I stare at him as I speak slowly, "why not?"

"Because . . . you'll . . ." he flounders a bit, and I smirk.

"Because I'll hurt him. . . hurt you . . . is it Yuki? Maybe you've fallen for Ayame . . ."

"No."

"No?"

". . . no."

Ritsu gets up, still not meeting my eyes. He speaks into his chest as he tells me that he will not be returning. He knows I could order it, but somehow I think he would risk my wrath when I get out rather than return again. 

And that was that. 

Ritsu didn't return. And I didn't get any better. I grew bored though. Without Ritsu to tend to me, I had to rely on the occasional nurse, and my other visitors. They all come holding Honda Tooru's hand. Momiji comes with Kisa and Hiro one time, but aside from polite enquires to my health they don't say much. Hatori still visits, checking my eyes. And the months . . . the months pass.

It's been a year and a month since my accident.  

I've watched the sky the whole time, bandages have come and gone and casts have been put on, taken off, and put back on. Now, my outer injuries seem to have healed. I'm told my disturbing shade of pale is back healthy. My hair is longer, brushing my shoulders irritatingly, my right leg barely moves but I've been able to move my toes again. The sensation is unremarkable; pins and needles are my constant companions in both my arms. The drips will leave scars, but I don't care. 

In fact I care about very little. 

My china doll has gone. She never comes anymore. 

Her visits slowed over the year, turning into one every week, every two weeks, months and finally stopped all together. I'd wait in bed for her, waiting to see her but she never came anymore. The last visit . . . she cried. She didn't even come into my room. I heard the door creak a little as she leant against it, and I heard her muffled cries beyond. Why did she leave? I didn't even know her name! 

That hurt worse than when they put the metal pins into my knee, it almost felt as bad as when I found my mother. Yes. It did hurt, I hurt so much I began to refuse food. I only survive now because they feed me with those damned drips they've stuck into my arms. I know I need to eat but I don't want to. I want to fade away and die. 

Finally.

I told Hatori.

"And if we don't find her?"

"I will not eat . . . if you try to feed me, I'll spit it out, if you put it in those drips, I'll tear the needles out. . ." 

Shigure glanced at Hatori, and then back at me, "what if she doesn't want to see you?"

"She will. You will make her."

I could see it in their eyes, they didn't believe me. they didn't think she was real. But she was. She was real! She sat on this very bed, and touched my hands, my face. I felt her heartbeat in her wrist. I could describe her to them, and yet their blank faces told me that they didn't understand.

"Find her. Or I will kill myself."

"Akito. . ."

"No!" I rasp out, I want to slap Hatori for trying to persuade me, "find her now! Bring her to me! Tell the rest of the family to find her! I want her brought to me now!"

A succession of girls, all Souma's, were brought to me. 

None of them was my china doll.

I glared at Shigure as he quietly thanked the girl who was leaving. He came over to me, and sat in the chair beside my bed, "Akito . . . that is all the girls who fit your description. There are no girls with light brown eyes, or auburn hair in the Souma family."

I wanted to scream at him. Reach up and grab his hair, pull at it until he found her. He stared at me thoughtfully for a moment before resuming.

"Unless . . ." he nodded slowly, "I think maybe I know who she might be . . ."

"Bring her to me now."

"She's away at the moment." Shigure stared at me, bemusement flickering behind his serious gaze, "perhaps tonight."

"She will come alone. Tell her that she will stay." I turned my head from him, and stared out the window. "Tell her . . ." I paused as a small bird fluttered past my window, "tell her I . . . missed her . . ."

Shigure got up, nodded, and left.

I stayed up that night. I had the nurses move the bed so it propped me into a sitting position. It hurt to be so elevated, but I wanted my china doll to know that I was fully aware of her this time. We would talk. I would tell her what she would do; she would have to stay with me from now on. I didn't want to lose her again. As the light from outside faded, darkening the room, I stared at the door. I waited, and waited . . . for a moment I thought she wouldn't come.

I would have Shigure's house for this. I would—

The door opened slowly, and she came in.

Like an angel, my china doll stood in the doorway for a moment, the light from outside casting her in silhouette. So beautiful. She stepped in and turned her back to me as she closed the door, gently so not to cause much noise. She stood like that and stared at the door before she spoke. "You asked to see me?"

Her voice was soft, familiar, her accent clearly that of the inner circle. But how. . .?

"I did. Where have you been?"

"I've been trying . . . to forget you . . ."

This hurts me; my heart begins to beat a little harder. "Forget me?" I ask, not realising I'm speaking aloud. "Why?"

"Because I do not wish to hurt you." Her answer is soft, "You will hate me, I did not wish to aggravate you when you are in this condition . . ."

"No." I shake my head, "Come here." She lifts her head, and turns. The shadows hid her from me still. How can they be so cruel to me? I want to see her in her full beauty, not just pieces anymore. "Come here." I command again, "Come here now."

"Yes, Akito-sama."

She steps over, her slippers are quiet against the cold floor, and she lifts the hem of her kimono as she pads over quietly. I shift slightly, and motion the side of the bed that is against the window. "You will sleep here tonight." I lift my arm, pulling the drips up with them, "I trust you do not toss in your sleep."

"No . . ." she whispers, "but I . . ."

"You must be tired, it's late." I say, I amaze myself really. I'm speaking softly to her. But then. . . I don't want to scare my china doll. I want to know who she is . . . and daylight will bring that revelation. 

She knows this, and dips her head as she comes closer. "You will kill me."

"Are you afraid to die?"

"No . . ." she shakes her head, "I am too bold already . . . I fear not death."

"So poetic . . ." I whisper to her, as she walks around to the end of the bed. Gracefully, she mounts it and climbs to my side. "I shall enjoy your company."

She lies down on her front, using her hands to cover her face, "You shall not."

"Who are you to tell me who I will enjoy . . . Silly child, trust me . . ." I leant over, her perfume once again touching me deeply, her hair was soft as I pressed my face into it. Her warmth seeped into my senses and lulled me. I slept with her, it would hurt in the morning, but her very presence was a balm to my body. I ran my free fingers over the silken kimono, feeling the contrast between the silken material and the embroidery threads of the design; each butterfly was lovingly stitched into this material. I decided that I would have Ayame make her a beautiful kimono, to commemorate the finding of our love. Beautiful landscapes etched into pale cream, with the collar and edges would be a dark purple. 

And in the morning . . . I would know who she truly was . . .

_~Maybe you won't love me the way I love you_

_Maybe I can't ask that of you_

_But you can ask it of me.~_

--------------------

And Now It's Time To LEAVE IT TO DOCTOR MEGALOMANIA!!!

DrM: [reads reviews]

Akito: [raises eyebrow] They're all very good and nice … except that one …

DrM: [nods]

Akito: You're a sicko …

DrM: [shrugs] eh, what can I do?

Akito: Twisted …

DrM: [yawns] gotta break the mould somehow …

Akito: Gross…

DrM: [shrugs]

Akito: And they don't like Yaoi …

DrM: [growls] Insult me! Fine! Question my heritage!! Eat my food!! Sleep in my goddamned bed, but NEVER insult beloved Yaoi!! [raises fist and rants] NOBODY DISSES MY BELOVED YAOI AND GETS AWAY WITH IT!! 

Akito: You're kinda cute when you rant … 


	5. Revealed

Yo~!! And Welcome to My Little World of Weirdness!

I state for the record that, despite the fact I really, really wish I did, I don't own any of the official characters that will grace this story; the wonderful creator of Fruits Basket, how I love thee! How can I show my appreciation? By borrowing your characters and putting them in weird situations, of course!! Oh, oh!! I do own the small poem that is in this though . . . it's dedicated to a close friend. [Laughs] Also I don't pretend to have any Mastery over the language of Japanese or any clue as to correct grammatical structure. I put it in and hope it gets across the point I'm trying to make! And I don't pretend to be able to write any sort of accents so please don't hate me!!

"Speaking"

*Stress/emphasis*

//Thinking//

++Titles – timewise ++

_Poem_

~ Just a Little Something ~

By Doctor Megalomania

Part Five: Revealed 

My china doll was awake before I was. 

She remained completely still as I came to consciousness. I had been lying on her back, to keep her here, to listen to her exist here. She shuddered slightly as I lifted myself up, and curled back onto the cold bed. I closed my eyes and breathe. I felt the bed shift as she sat up, and waited for me to open my eyes. 

Would I really react so badly? I wondered, if I found out she was really not who I thought she was . . .?

I heard her catch her breath. She was beginning to cry already. She'd cried last night as well . . . her suppressed shuddering had awoken me. No doubt her make up was ruined, her hair was slightly matted, but that wouldn't detract from her beauty. I knew she was wonderful.

I frowned to myself, as she got up, and moved away from me.

"Where are you going?"

"Just . . ." her voice was a little deeper, raspier from her crying, "Just to wash my face, Akito-sama."

Water ran in the small sink, she splashed water against her face, and pulled a towel from the rack. I opened my eyes to see her back toward me. Her kimono had fallen loose during the night and hung off one milky white shoulder. I could see the real colour of her hair now.

"You . . ."

The towel lowered from 'her' face, and 'she' sighed. Still not looking at me, Ritsu . . . that useless, damned monkey sighed. 

"Well . . ." he whispered more to himself than me, "It was nice . . ." he turned and stared at me. He was a mess, a disgusting mess, hair was matted and unkempt, I glared at him. "Why are you here?!"

Ritsu smiled at me.

He actually smiled.

"I came because Shigure said you missed me. I came because I did not want you to die. You've been refusing to eat since I left."

"You . . . can't be my china doll." I'm dumbfounded. Can you blame me? My china doll, my graceful, beautiful china doll is this hideous creature . . . this hideous clumsy monkey . . . I love my china doll, tears prickle at my eyes as I realise how much make believe, and emotion I had tied to her. My beautiful doll was the worthless monkey.

He'd always been here.

"Why . . .?"

Ritsu blinked, the smile on his face fading. I tried again.

"Why did you. . .?"

"I thought you recognised me that first time . . . so when I came back, during the day, I thought you knew it was me all along . . ." 

He barely makes sense, he's a cross dressing disgusting creature . . . and he loves me?!

"Yes, I do . . ." the sad acceptance on Ritsu's face tells me I've spoken aloud. Not that I care that he knows what I think of him. He comes closer, and I want to recoil. He kneels by the bed, in striking range of my hand. He rests his cheek on my blanket, and closes his eyes. "Akito . . . I thought you recognised me . . ." 

"Well, I didn't . . . this man you love . . ." I snarl, my hands flex. I want to dig my fingernails into his damned hair and drag it out. "This man you love . . . is me?!"

"Hai."

The answer comes without shame. Without shame! This creature desires me, this thing wants my heart . . . I bring my hand up, ripping the drips out and slamming it on his vulnerable head. He winces, but doesn't cry out. I want him to sob, beg for my forgiveness, how dare he even think of soiling me with his lust!

"Disgusting!" I cry out, "I hate you!" I pull as hard as I can at his hair, mindless of the blood seeping from my hand. "I'd never desire you! You disgust me!"

Why isn't he crying?!

His dainty eyelids remain closed, wincing occasionally when I pull at his hair. I pull and yank harder, feeling some of his hair give way. I can see his shoulders trembling, at least he's afraid. I smile wickedly, "Shall I pull out all your lovely hair?! I'll pull, shall I?"

He sniffs, his eyes start to leak with tears, "Hai."

This catches me by surprise.

He opens his eyes and stares at me. "Akito . . . make me . . ." 

Such pain in his eyes, my hand stills.

"Akito, make me . . . not love you . . ."

"How can you love me?!" I scream at him, my lungs already protesting at the vigorous movements I make, "We are not even matched to each other!! I am the Clan head, you are some worthless monkey!"

"Hai . . . I know . . ." Ritsu smiles at me again, he shakes his head, and buries his face into the blanket covering the side of my upper thigh, his voice is muffled as he calls out, "Please, do what you must to punish me!"

I pull at his hair again, this time ripping out strands in clumps. "I'll kill you!" I spit at him, "I will!! I'll kill you, make you hate me forever!!"

"Hai . . ." Ritsu begins, satisfyingly, to cry. I see his shoulders shudder with his sobs, and I . . . I think I should feel happy. . . but. . . I pull weakly at his hair; the blood from my hand taints the golden brown strands, and my fingers. I feel the warm wetness of his tears on my leg, seeping through the thin material. My china doll continues to sob as I untangle my hands, and lean over until my cheek is pressed against his head. My vision begins to blur . . . and then . . .

I came around a few hours later. The afternoon sun poured in through my window, warming my face.

Breathing in, I could still smell Ritsu's perfume. I blinked and looked around. Ritsu was knelt by my bedside, this time clean and tidy. He was dressed as a man again. His head was bowed, and I could see bandages that were bloodstained. Hatori had been. Repaired the drips on my hand, and to my irritation I found I'd been strapped down. I couldn't move my hands.

"Ha-san says that you mustn't exert yourself."

Ritsu looks up, and tilts his head. "He says when you are well enough; you may do as you please." He gets up, and walks away, absently tucking a lock of his loathsome hair behind his ear. I hate him. I hate him with every breath in my body, when I get out of this bed I'll shave his head, and castrate him. 

"Disgusting."

He turns his head slightly as I hiss at him, "I know. . ."

"What made you think I could ever love you?!" I ask, not really wanting to talk to this thing, but unable to stop the words tumbling from my lips, "You disgust me! You're worthless, pathetic! I hate you!"

"I know . . ."

Argh! I want to tear out his hair, every time he replied with that sad, soft sigh. Didn't he care I wanted him dead?! How dare he try to claim this disgusting wanton desire he claimed to have for me was love! Disgusting, hideous monkey! I want him dead; I don't want him anywhere near me! 

However with my attack, came some horrible consequences. 

Hatori doubted my ability to control myself, to take care of myself. He came to me one day and told me, he told me that I would either have to put up with Ritsu as my nurse for the next few months as the damage repaired or some idiot outsider come in and help me. He couldn't do that because of his duties as a doctor. 

I was his duty! I didn't want either, but Hatori claimed it wouldn't be good for me to have him as his nurse. I needed someone else so I wouldn't go crazy. My other visitors disappeared, news of my attack against that disgusting monkey evidently filtering around the family. Even Tooru was forbidden to come and visit me. 

So . . .

. . . I chose the disgusting monkey.

I will not have an idiot outsider attend me.

No.

I will never have an idiot outsider attend me.

Ritsu will just have to put his . . . feelings aside and deal with me like a proper servant. 

The months passed, and soon, the drips holding me back were slowly removed. 

The casts came off finally, and were replaced with a few bandages. Ritsu celebrated this with me; we ate a full meal cooked by him, rather than that slop that the hospital provided. We ate at dusk, not quite nighttime, not quite the day. Ritsu, in the whole time he served me, never once looked into my eyes. 

His wounds faded, leaving only scars from where I'd scratched him, where I'd pulled out chunks of his hair and scalp. I still hated him, but . . . 

I stare out the window, thinking deeply.

I miss my China Doll. I want her so much, I miss the way she'd hum so softly, the way she'd touch my hands, my face. It was so gentle . . . how could it be that this creature, this useless monkey could ever be . . . *her* . . .

Ritsu returns, carrying a large bowl of water carefully balanced between hip and his right arm, on the other he carries a towel, a sponge and a wash cloth. In his hand he clasps the bag containing some shampoo, conditioner and soap. I hate this time of the day, when he has to touch me, wash me, bathe me . . . when I must feel his hands running over my skin, his eyes carefully remaining blank, and unseeing as he washes my most intimate of areas. 

I have to admit. 

I've started to wonder what he thinks about this.

He blinks, almost dropping the bowl. Clumsy idiot. Both him and me. I must curb this horrible habit of mine of speaking aloud.

"Ano . . ." Ritsu begins to answer, "I don't think much . . ." he answers truthfully, "I try not to, Akito-sama . . ." 

I roll my eyes. Did I tell you? The bandage on my other eye came off. True, I now need a pair of spectacles, but they are handsome, half moon shaped. I only need them to read, and I can glare quite effectively over them. The ability to walk will have to be re-learnt though, and I am slowly beginning to be able to feed myself. He begins with my feet, his long, high ponytail falling over his shoulder and obscures the eye contact between us.   

I take the time to stare at him. 

He's thin, has been getting thinner since he started to serve me. As far as I am aware, he eats his meals with me, he sleeps in a room just down the hall. His whole life is now dedicated to serving me like a pathetic little maid. I stare at the curve of his back, it's slimmer than mine, he still holds himself very much like a woman would. He's so repulsive. How could anyone desire him?! 

I glance at his face as he moves up my leg, washing my lower legs and knees with careful and gentle swipes of the washcloth. I loathe him. His hair is clean, neatly kept. I don't know why he bothers, as if anyone would be interested in his bland auburn locks. He pauses mid-thigh, and moves up, unwrapping the bandages around my chest gently. I stare at him, allowing him to pull my book away and set it on the table beside me. He washes my chest gingerly, afraid to put too much pressure on my still bruised and fractured ribs. The years of neglecting my body return to haunt me. The frailness of my body didn't help when that car careened into me. 

After he gets another bowl of warm water, he helps me to sit up, as he gets onto my bed. My hair irritates me, so I insist he washes it every day. I have to lay my head in his lap and stare up at him as he gently works the shampoo into my hair and wipes it away with a wet sponge. It takes a long time, but my hair stays clean. I can't stand dirty hair, it's disgusting. 

Ritsu stares at me with a carefully blank expression. I hate it. I don't want to stare up at his gloomy face as I wait for him to finish. 

"Are you uncomfortable?"

"No, Akito-sama."

"I mean without your disguise?"

"Yes, Akito-sama."

"Well?"

He tilts his head, "Akito-sama?"

"Well, which is it, are you uncomfortable without your kimono or not?!"

He blinks, and nods, "I am, Akito-sama."

I move my eyes to the side, and think for a moment. I watch as his pale hand dips into the bowl perched on the side. "Wear it. Tomorrow." 

His hand hovers over the bowl for a moment, before he speaks. "Of course, Akito-sama."

Water drips warmly down from my hair, into the towel between my head and his lap. I can't tell anymore . . . I can't tell if he's scared of me or not . . . I glare at him, a wicked plan forming in my mind. It's a perfect idea, wonderful. It will cure both him and me of his 'desire' for me. I shall play with him as I would Yuki, I think it's about time Ritsu got some of my . . . more special attention. 

He begins to work the conditioner into my scalp, and I close my eyes, "I want you to cut my hair tomorrow."

"Yes, Akito-sama."

"You will wear your best kimono."

"Yes, Akito-sama."

I smile slightly, warmly, "And you will wear that perfume you wore while you visited me." 

The hands in my hair slow to a stop, and he mumbles something. I frown with irritation, I can't stand it when he mumbles. My eyes snap open, his features are slightly fuzzy because I'm not wearing my new glasses, but I can see him looking a little sorrowful, "What is it?"

"I said . . ." he swallowed, and continues in a quiet voice, "I can't, Akito-sama, I can't wear the perfume."

I feel my anger coil up in me, I want to strike him, "Why not?" I ground out tersely. How dare he try and disobey me? 

"Be-because. . ." he stutters, "I . . . I . . ."

My left hand twitches, just begging to be allowed to rip the loose lock of hair that barely tickles my nose. I paste a weak smile on my lips, "Why . . . not. . .?" I ask slowly, as if I'm talking to a child . . . then again, I am talking to the most retarded member of my cursed inner family. Ritsu blinks and finally begins to talk properly. 

"Because I bought it to wear for you . . ." he swallows, "After you rejected me . . ." his eyes close slightly, remembering a painful memory, "I threw it out . . ."

"So?" I ask, was that it? Was that the great revelation? I roll my eyes, "So buy another bottle."

"Akito-sama. . ."

"I said buy some more. You *will* wear it tomorrow." 

His eyes widened, and I can see in his eyes already that spark of panic, "I . . . I can't, not if I don't have time, I'd have to leave you now to get to the shop before it closes!"

I close my eyes, I can't have that. Not before I put the motions of my plan into actions. I sigh, and turn my head slightly to the side, another idea springs up. I can use this to my benefit, I sigh louder again this time, and murmur quietly, "Then you will arrange to have it delivered to you . . . You will have it before the end of the week. You will wear it every day, with your best kimono, and your hair will be in a tidy, traditional style."

Ritsu pauses, maybe trying to figure out why I say it. I keep my eyes closed, smiling to myself. 

Oh yes, this ugly, disgusting monkey would get what he incited from me. He's never known me . . . he's never even tried to know me . . . and soon, he's going to wish he'd never even met me . . .

His voice is quietly amazed, as he whispers. 

"Yes, Akito-sama." 

_~My heart's breaking, _

_I'll keep on smiling,_

_Just for you, just for you,_

_Just a little something more~_

-----------------

And Now It's Time For LEAVE IT TO DOCTOR MEGALOMANIA!!!

Akito: RITSU?!

Ritsu: ME?!

DrM: YOU?!

Akito: you know you're the author, you knew it was him all along. . .

DrM: I just got sucked into all the craziness of the moment . . . anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece, and look forward to me update next week, because I'm officially on holiday, and now have 24 hour internet access . . . yay me!

Ritsu: PLEASE R&R!!


	6. Revenge

Yo~!! And Welcome to My Little World of Weirdness!

I state for the record that, despite the fact I really, really wish I did, I don't own any of the official characters that will grace this story; the wonderful creator of Fruits Basket, how I love thee! How can I show my appreciation? By borrowing your characters and putting them in weird situations, of course!! Oh, oh!! I do own the small poem that is in this though . . . it's dedicated to a close friend. [Laughs] Also I don't pretend to have any Mastery over the language of Japanese or any clue as to correct grammatical structure. I put it in and hope it gets across the point I'm trying to make! And I don't pretend to be able to write any sort of accents so please don't hate me!!

"Speaking"

*Stress/emphasis*

//Thinking//

++Titles – timewise ++

_Poem_

~ Just a Little Something ~

By Doctor Megalomania

~ Chapter dedicated to Tam Chronin, for her continued brilliant support! Thank you for beta reading this chapter!! 

Part Six: Revenge

He pushes open the door, carefully carrying my lunch on a tray. 

His own, interestingly, is meagre compared to mine. I raise an eyebrow and look at him frankly. He's becoming very thin, even the feminine curve of his cheeks is beginning to disappear. I know Hatori has talked to him about it before. I heard them one evening, Hatori's concerned about him, hasn't he been taking care of himself? Hasn't he been sleeping well? 

Well, actually . . . to be precise all I heard was Hatori. I think Ritsu has stopped talking. 

My plan is progressing excellently. I'll make him realise what a fool he's been . . . but I can't do that if he dies, or collapses from starvation. I make up my mind; I will fatten the ugly monkey up again, besides it just adds to my plan! I smile as I look at him and fold my bookmark into my book. Ritsu blinks and blushes slightly; already he's feeling the effects of my plan. Wonderful. 

"Good. I was thinking maybe you got lost."

Ritsu shakes his head in the negative, I bid him to come over and show me what I'll be having for lunch. It is a small salad, complete with healthy chunks of chicken, it smells wonderful. I smile slightly for him and nod my approval. He helps me to sit up and rests the tray delicately on my lap. 

I eat slowly, savouring the ability to feed myself once more. You never really appreciate the ability to move, until it has been taken from you. I glance at him as he picks at his small portion of food, and notice how introspective he's turning. He's thinking . . . about what I can't exactly tell . . . Does he wonder about my apparent 180-degree turn in my attitude? Perhaps. Can he understand why I've started smiling at him more, looking at him, *flirting* at him? Never. No, I like playing with him . . . I've never openly flirted with anyone like this before. Always they've been aware that I own them, Ritsu has grown to believe that I don't own him as much as I do the others. I've never given him the benefit of having my attention as I would the others. 

His little confession has drawn my attention, and he will learn what it is to be in my control . . . but first, I must break him. And to do that . . . I will have to raise his hopes to a level so far above, that when they smash back down to earth, they will break into pieces so small, he'll never be able to put them back together again.

A little like Humpty Dumpty . . . 

Only the idiot egg didn't have a great fall, the King pushed the moron. 

If you're delicate, stay on the ground. Live in a glass house? Don't mock the children next door. Like a China Doll? Don't let me know. 

I smile as I raise a small piece of chicken up and offer it to him. It takes a few moments for him to realise that I've stopped eating and look up at me. Poor dear, his eyes look like a kicked puppy, awww . . . poor diddems.

I smile slightly as I nudge it against his lips.

"Eat." I command softly, and obediently he opens his mouth and starts to eat. I watch with interest as he slowly chews. His lips move against one another, they are slightly red. I blink as I realise he's started wearing make up again. I don't realise I'm staring until his thin red lips part and the tip of his tongue pokes out daringly, running along the very edges of his teeth and brushing his top lip slowly.  

I swallow as a curl of disgust tickles my stomach, does he think that is seductive? Yuck. Ritsu sighs and his white teeth disappear again. He thinks this moment is over but I've not had my fun yet. I lift my fork again to his lips, and once again he takes the food. This time I stare into his eyes, his amber eyes stare at me, carefully blank and yet . . . yes, I believe I can see it, I can see that tiny little flicker of hope that I've been feeding . . . excellent, it's not yet bright enough for me to extinguish just yet, but . . . soon . . . I'll make my move when it will hurt him most . . .

It feels strangely good to be sitting up.

I wait patiently as the worthless monkey washes my back; one hand rests on my shoulder for support as he leans over me. His hair is down today, making it a bit of a pain whenever he leans over to do something I command . . . naturally today, everything I ask for is on the floor. Heh. He is wearing a light green kimono today, with spring-like shrubs and blossoms embroidered over it. How sweet. It's one of the most formal bridal kimonos I've ever seen, and I wouldn't have put it past Ayame's creative abilities. It suits him; the pale green is well matched to his hair, and his pale features. I feed him with scraps from my plate, and he seems to have taken the hint. 

While I've become strong enough to sit up in bed, he has regained some of his more feminine curves; it almost makes his girlishly long eyelashes look nice against his cheek again. He keeps glancing at me out the very corner of his eye, no doubt worried how I am doing. 

Today is the first day I've been strong enough to actually sit up for any length of time. 

He keeps glancing at me with worried eyes, awww . . . I almost smirk, is he worried for his love? Well, soon the day is coming when I can get my bloody revenge on the disgusting creature. I stare at him openly, memorising each little detail about his hideous face. The way he demurely lowers his gaze as he washes me, the way he keeps one side of his hair brushed back over his shoulder, but allows the other side to fall freely. It's almost like he's keeping himself all for me, no one else can see through his curtain of hair but me. His face is still a little gaunt and the angry red marks of my attack on him are melting away. Just the tiniest hint of makeup adorns his face, his lips are a glossy pale pink, and his cheeks are powdery red. A slight smile tugging at his lips suggest he knows what I am looking at, but other than that he tries to keep his expression blank. 

He finishes by reapplying my bandages to my chest, I note that the clumsy creature is being very gentle with me, his hands don't touch me more than they should, but I feel shivers of disgust roll over my skin as he glides his hands down my sides. I can't bare it, when he has to come so close to me. His perfume, irritatingly not the one he wore for me that first time, is lightly dabbed over him, masking him, hiding his real scent. It's heady, and makes me feel uneasy to be so close to him. He straightens, and stares at my chest, no doubt wondering if he's tied it tight enough, his lips purse together, his eyebrows draw closer. He blinks as he kneels, and ties the lowest run of bandages slightly tighter. 

As he kneels before me, I notice that the sunlight catches some highlights in his bland hair. It gives him a crown of gold, and with his eyes focused else where for a moment, I can make believe my little china doll has returned to me. She's knelt before me in gentle worship.

Of its own volition, my hand comes and touches her golden brown hair. Her gentle hands still, and she blinks looking up at me with little contained surprise. I start to stroke her head lovingly, just gazing into those wide warm brown eyes. Her soft pink mouth falls open, revealing kittenish white teeth. I feel a stir of desire in my stomach as her head tilts into my hand, and her warm eyes start to slide shut. But not before I catch a glimmer of desire, my china doll wants me too. 

How I missed her . . .

A soft sigh escapes her lips, as she brings her dainty hands up to meet mine. So daring! She drags my hand down from her head and along her neck. She reaches for my other hand and I pull it away from her, no . . . I am in control of this, I smile at my china doll as I reach for her hair again, I run it through my fingers. 

How I wanted her . . .

I see her flat bosom swell slightly as she curves into my caresses, so desperate for more of my touch. She's loosing herself to me, I see her smile, as she opens her eyes a crack to gaze at me with heated eyes. Oh, I want to groan, she wants me so much, I can see it! 

Her heavenly voice breathes a quiet sigh, as she starts to talk, "Aki—"

The moment is shattered when a loud knock summons me back from my daydream. Ritsu too is startled, and I have to fight violent recoil as I realise the hideous, disgusting monkey's bland hair is mussed, and his cheeks are stained with blotchy blushes. He quickly finger combs his hair, and stands. He glances from me to the door as whoever is knocking knocks again.

"Well answer it!" I snap, fairly irritated that I lost so much control of my daydream. 

The damned monkey scrambles to answer the door and Hatori comes in. strangely, I don't feel like talking to him, I should be falling over myself thanking him from stopping me from falling too deeply into my daydream and actually touching the stupid monkey. My plan is to break him, but even having contact with the stupid creature is too much too ask. My plan will never include anything but the odd smile at that disgusting thing, perhaps even the odd touch, but never am I kissing it, much less going further with it. 

Ritsu quietly picks up the bowl of water and balances it on his hip; I glare at Hatori until finally I glance at Ritsu's back as he walks to the door. He seems to feel my gaze and glances over his shoulder. He stares back at me, his hand coming up to touch his cheek, stroking it as if he can't quiet believe I touched him.

As he disappears around the corner, I can't help but glare at Hatori with the absurd furious idea that he scared away my china doll.

The worthless monkey looks up with surprise as I am wheeled back into the room.

He's sitting on the end of my bed, reading some stupid book of his and clearly he didn't expect me. He looks at me with concern, noting my furious expression. I have to hold my tongue as he takes the handles off my orderly and wheels me over to my bed. I am back early, but I would rather spend my time with the loathsome monkey than with the idiot outsider of a nurse Hatori had arranged for my physical therapy. "Idiot outsider woman! She was hideous, repulsive! Her perfume made me feel ill, and having her support me as she instructed me nearly drove me to killing her! How dare Hatori arrange such a person to help me recover my ability to walk!" 

The damned monkey is careful as he lowers me back into my bed, and I can't help but feel much better. Much as I hate him, Ritsu's perfume is a refreshing change from hers. 

I feel drained. 

So drained, that I can barely help the monkey as he moves me. I just want to lie here, sleep, die . . .

I blink my eyes open as I hear soft, soothing words, and feel a cool, damp cloth press against my fevered brow. I felt my bed dip, and Ritsu's hands slowly unbuttoned the shirt he'd put on me only an hour ago. Once he reaches half way, I feel him slip the damp cloth over my eyes, and his hands then move onto my shoulders. His hands are tight as they begin to work over them. 

I hear him mumble something, catching only, 'Ha-san' and 'might help'. 

She works over the knots in my shoulders gently, and her warm hands start to send me into a doze. She starts to hum quietly, moving so she kneels on the bed. She'll fall off like that, and I raise a hand to press against her side, her back, sliding over her body, pushing her to a safer place on the bed. I can't see her, but I can almost feel the radiance of her smile as she moves to kneel over me. She's careful though, careful not to touch me. I feel the dip in the mattress where her knees are, and I can feel the warmth of her thighs barely brushing my hips, but aside from that . . . it's not enough . . .

She's so concentrated on my shoulders, she doesn't realise how much she is frustrating me. I want to feel her so closely, my eyes covered, my hands wander over her hips. They are stark, not completely feminine, there is strength in those hips, they move almost as if they were trying to avoid my hands, avoid pressing up against them. She's so playful today!

I feel her hands pause as I grasp her hips more firmly, then hear a startled gasp as I slowly lower her.

"You can't have been very comfortable . . ." I whisper to her softly, I feel a smile build on my lips as I stroke up her torso. I want to take this further, I want to break her . . . make her mine . . . but something holds me back, I don't want to hurt my china doll.

I hear her sigh quietly, she's happy, perhaps even pleasured by our chaste contact. I am warmed by her presence there, just sitting on my own hips, her knees touching gently either side of my chest. Her hands rest on my shoulders, as mine do on her hips. She strokes my shoulders reverently, as she shifts, bends until her hair spools over my chest. She lowers herself, and her head rests on my chest. She listens to my heartbeat, and I hear a contented sigh.

I raise my hand from her hip, and cup her head to me, I don't want her to leave me again . . . not again . . . never . . . 

The evening sun is red, and glows evenly through my window, as I awaken again. 

My china doll is . . . 

A movement at the foot of the bed invites my attention.

I blink as I realise she's not actually gone. My china doll almost takes my breath away; she sits at the end of my bed, clutching a towel about her body protectively watching the sunset with a contented gaze. The dying sunlight is so beautiful when reflected on her face. A warm smile flits over her lips as a lock of her wet hair falls from the clumsy bun she's piled it into. Closing her warm eyes, she brushes it back with a hand and reaches for a brush.

Then the spell broke.

The towel fell away, and instead of a woman's swell of bosom, Ritsu's disgusting flat chest reveals itself to taunt me. I resisted the urge to throw something at him, something sharp, something hurtful. My plan wasn't completely yet, and already I was *slipping*! How could I forget, my graceful china doll was this disgusting monkey. I force myself not to throw up when he blinks and realises I was awake. He smiles radiantly, unaware he's making me sick, as he speaks quietly, "I spoke to Ha-san. . ."

"Did you . . ." I have to restrain myself so much, to keep my plan in motion. I couldn't let him see how much he disgusted me until the moment was right.

He brushes through his hair quickly, the water dripping off his bland golden brown hair, "Hai!" He was happy, as he announced that Hatori was going to allow him to accompany me to my Physical Therapy, so that the woman would be tutor for me, and tutor alone. He was going to provide any support I needed. I stopped a smirk, him? Support me? He was weaker than I was! 

But still it was better than that idiot outsider.

The lessons were hard, and every time afterward, I had Ritsu work out the tense muscles. I had to grudgingly admit that he was very good with his hands, apparently all that training with his foolish mother at the health spa and hot springs must have sunk in at sometime. If only he wasn't so stupid and clumsy, Ritsu would make a good masseuse. 

I was careful though; I tried hard not to fall into my pitiful daydreams. I was never going to have my China Doll back, and there was no sense in trying to turn Ritsu into her. She was forever gone.

I allowed myself a few times though, just make believing that she was there, sometimes I would wake to the monkey's humming. I could lie there and listen to him and pretend, just for a few moments, that she was returned to me. I wanted her so much, so much, she was the only one who ever really cared for me . . .

The therapy lessons, as I said, were hard and draining. But I kept at them; I didn't want to have to depend on the monkey forever. After the lessons, rather than wheel me to the bed, I would lean on the monkey as we walked to it. The pain in my legs was intense, but when I did it for the first time, fluidly, without having to stop for breath or until my vision cleared, it was so wonderful.

"You did it!" I hear Ritsu whisper happily, as he bent over with me, lowering me onto the bed. I felt so unsteady, my vision was blanking out, and I felt the threat of passing out. My arms remained tightly wrapped around his neck, as I struggled to get my breath back. I felt his hands move in slow circles on my back, and as my lungs began to work again, my rather frazzled mind took a moment to realise that he was wearing the perfume I'd ordered him to get. He'd not been able to fulfil my order, the shop apparently not stocking that particular brand anymore, but he found some. I don't know how, but he found some . . . I felt a smile build on my lips, it smelt wonderful . . . 

My plan was working . . .

. . . I turned my head, smelling his hair . . .

I was in control of him.

. . . his hands stilled, and he began to kneel before me. . .

I could break him at any moment.

. . . He smiled up at me so happily, taking one of my hands and pressing it against his cheek. . .

I would crush his hope soon.

. . . his warm eyes slid shut, as I leant forward, his smiling soft lips inviting me . . .

I should . . . hurt him . . .

. . . I couldn't close my own eyes until our lips met, his happiness just radiating around me . . .

I will have his heart because . . .

A blush stole across his cheeks, as he lifted his hands up and braced himself against my thighs, as I cupped the back of his head in my hands and pulled him closer, kissed him deeper, breathed in the sweet perfume, my china doll's hands tightened as our passion rose. 

I will have his heart because . . .

My hands tugged at him, pulled him up, slid down his back, pulled his knees forward, forcing him to kneel on the bed, forcing him to sit with me. My china doll, oh, how I desire her! My china doll, so willing, so passionate, I would never have guessed. We lay back, my china doll's innocent hands came to my face and stroked the sides of my face, in my hair, my neck as I kissed her so hard, bruised his lips, I wanted her to wield to me, I wanted him to submit to me . . .

I will have his heart because . . .

My china doll sat, lips a passionate rose red, her eyes warmed only for me, his breath a husky rasp as my china doll rolled over, and lay down beside me. Arms inviting as I leant over her, his eyes watching me, her lips parted. I felt my vision blur, I couldn't tell anymore . . . the exertion of the day, the passion of the moment, made me light headed, and I . . . I . . .

My last thought before all around me went crashing out of my awareness was that . . . 

I will have his heart because he is mine.

_~Are you the one, whose heart is calling mine?_

_I don't understand, please tell me._

_My heart's calling out, my eyes are blurred,_

_Whose heart is calling out to me, are you the one?~_

------

And Now It's Time To LEAVE IT TO DOCTOR MEGALOMANIA!!!

DrM: [just grins with happiness]

Akito: [sourly] Why are you so happy?

DrM: [squeals quietly as she points at the reviews]

Akito: [rolls eyes] So you get a few nice words, you realise that they are actually praising MY acting abilities . . .

Ritsu: [bites lips] do you think we'll get any more reviews, Akito-sama?

Akito: [sneers] Of course we will! It's a story about ME after all!

DrM: [raises eyebrow] Riiiiiiiight. . . okay. . . [turns to readers] have you ever had a day when your characters suddenly pretend that they are real?

Akito: we are real.

DrM: [blinks] really?

Akito: Yes.

DrM: [confused] uh, well. . . that's erm, good. . . I think . . . [shakes head] Anyway, thank you very much for your time, please leave a review!! And also, can I just give a great big round of thanks to Tam Chronin, who very kindly beta-read this chapter for me because beloved blue – who doesn't really beta read my FB fics very much - was too busy . . .

Akito: [raises eyebrow] with what?

DrM: [mumbles] In This Tainted Soul. . . Find Redemption . . .

Akito: [shakes head] oh dear me. [glares at readers] So? Please R&R!!


	7. Repentance

Yo~!! And Welcome to My Little World of Weirdness!

I state for the record that, despite the fact I really, really wish I did, I don't own any of the official characters that will grace this story; the wonderful creator of Fruits Basket, how I love thee! How can I show my appreciation? By borrowing your characters and putting them in weird situations, of course!! Oh, oh!! I do own the small poem that is in this though . . . it's dedicated to a close friend. [Laughs] Also I don't pretend to have any Mastery over the language of Japanese or any clue as to correct grammatical structure. I put it in and hope it gets across the point I'm trying to make! And I don't pretend to be able to write any sort of accents so please don't hate me!!

"Speaking"

*Stress/emphasis*

//Thinking//

++Titles – timewise ++

_Poem_

~ Just a Little Something ~

By Doctor Megalomania

Part Seven: Repentance 

A bright light is the first thing I'm aware of.

The second is Hatori's fingers prying one of my eyes open. 

"What are you doing?" I rasp, opening my other eye so he will stop blinding me with the stupid, small flashlight. Hatori lifts his fingers from my face, and stares down at me as he switches off the light. "You had a fit." He answers simply, "We thought you were dead."

I turn my head and find the whole family is here, wow . . . amazing what will happen at the promise of my death.

Tooru is comforting someone, I can hear her but she's just out of my line of sight. The woman she's comforting sounds familiar, and the memory of what I was doing before I passed out comes crashing back to me.

I feel unsettled that some deep part of me feels much prouder of the deed than warrants. It just means that Ritsu will fall harder for me, he should be thanking me for the amount of effort I am putting into my plan.

The stupid cat snorts against the wall and growls angrily at Ritsu, "Worthless monkey!" He snaps loudly, my china doll's weeping stops as the ginger haired freak continues to rant at him, "He's not dead, he just had a fit! This is what you had the family worried about! Idiot monkey!" 

The freak storms out of the room, slowly followed by Hatsuharu, Yuki glances at me, then at his brother and grabs Tooru's hand, dragging her after him. She goes to protest, but he silences her with an insult against my china doll about him being foolish and that they should never have believed him.

The rest leave as well without word to me, Ayame, Shigure staying only for their friend . . . Hatori staying to make sure there's no damage. I glance over and my china doll comes into my line of vision, clasping his hands over his collarbone, worry still radiating from him. He bits his lip hard, any trace of out encounter faded long ago, although I notice that his kimono is ripped slightly at the collar. 

"Gomen!" He begins, lowering his eyes, "I'm so sorry, I thought . . . when you collapsed, I . . . I . . ." he lifts his head again and fresh tears well up in his eyes, "I thought you had died, I thought I'd killed you!"

I lift my hand out to him, "Help me up. . ."

He complies instantly, ignoring Hatori's disapproving glare. I lean on him to sit up as he sits down beside me so I can lean against him. I rest my forehead against his shoulder for a moment, clasping his arm in my hand so he doesn't move. My head is swimming still, and I close my eyes. I smell that idiot outsider girl's perfume on his clothes; she's been holding him. I raise my head a little too soon, too eager to escape the smell, that my head hammers hard with pain. 

"Watch out . . ." Hatori comments, "You are not well enough, Akito-sama." He hands me some pills, which I swallow without protest. I feel too weak. I lean against Ritsu, trying to hold my breath against the smell of that outsider girl. I'd have him take it off right now, get rid of the clothes, burn them, just so I wouldn't have to smell them anymore. Disgusting.

Ayame makes a small impatient noise and I glare at him. He is anxious to leave so soon? My eyes narrow, "Ayame."

He stills and stares at me with challenging golden green eyes, "Yes, Akito-sama."

I glance at Ritsu briefly, "Make for him a new kimono." Ritsu's warm brown eyes widen as I talk, his mouth falls open. I frown slightly, why did I ask that? Just because I want to get rid of the smell of that idiot outsider girl? I could just order him out of the room, just have him go change his clothes . . . I shake my heart as my rational mind kicked in, it would hurt him, wouldn't it? To get a present from me, it would hurt him so much when I break him, to know what my softest side was like, to come so close to revealing the real me. . . it would break him completely, wouldn't it?

I allowed a small smile pass over my lips, as I turned to Ayame now. The snake's jaw was hanging open with shock, as I detailed to him the most beautiful kimono I could think of. 

It would break his heart . . . wouldn't it?

I still don't know how Ayame fixed it, but the bodice of the kimono some how suggested that my china doll was more male, yet still managed to make him look female. The long sleeves brushed just below his knees, as he turned around, showing off every aspect of the beautiful gown. Ayame had outdone himself; even I had to admit that, well and truly. The beautiful cream of the main part of the kimono was offset starkly with bold deep violet borders, the stitching on the various blue and purple butterflies as they chasing the pale pink blossoms, as the frozen petals floated on a still wind, was incredible. 

I didn't find it so hard sound very convincing when I told Ritsu he looked nice. 

The blush that stole across his cheeks, lightly made up to match the tone of the kimono, made me feel a little more convinced. If he weren't what he was he would make a very beautiful lover for me. I sigh, it's a shame really, if he were my china doll, she'd be absolutely perfect . . .

My china doll glances in the mirror, checking his appearance. Standing unsteadily, I hobble over. I hate that I still cannot walk perfectly, but I still need practice. My china doll jerks with surprise as he realises I'm moving, and turns to catch me as I stumble the last step. 

How clichéd!

We stare each other as he lowers us to the ground, I sprawl myself, leaning my head against his chest, as he kneels daintily, attentively, I felt his hands support me, heard his heart beating, I watched a flush creep across his collar bone, and secretly rejoiced in the effect I was having on him.

How easy he was making it for me?

He noticed my smile and began to blush, "Akito-sama . . ." I flicked my eyes up at him, and stared at him through my fringe. His blushing got worse, and his amber eyes sparkled, as he murmured happily, "Arigato . . . zutto, zutto, arigato . . ."

"There's no need for you to thank me . . ." I whisper back, as I raise a hand to stroke his cheek. He nuzzles my hand like an adoring puppy, how cute! I would enjoy hurting him so badly. Watching tears roll from those eyes . . . my hand crept down his throat, his breath caught. I smiled more, letting some of the desire I felt, the desire to revenge myself on him, steal into my eyes. He doesn't break eye contact with me, how can he? He's so blinded by his love for me; to see me staring at him with such emotion must be spell binding. 

I rest my weight against him more, closing my eyes as I trail my fingers over his shoulder, under the collar of his new kimono. For the moment, I pretend my china doll is with me, Ritsu does much to aid this as well, he starts to hum lightly, gasping as my fingers pull at his clothes more. His heart thrums deeply, its pace quickening, as we sit together on the floor in the sunlight. I feel myself ready to doze, Ritsu's hands are gentle as he laces one set of fingers into my hair and strokes the other hand down my neck and shoulders. 

I fall asleep to his humming, a plaintive tune, quiet and romantic. His heartbeat is a comforting constant. My hand stops its absent minded wandering, slowly slipping down his flat chest. I'm warm, and even if it is Ritsu, I can at least pretend I'm happy . . .

I woke up one night, several weeks later.

The moonlight poured though the window, lighting the room with a cool icy blue light. I looked around, and saw that Ritsu was gone. I frowned and got up, it was strange, normally if I woke up Ritsu would be here. The chair he usually slept in was empty, so he'd not gotten up or anything. The door slide open, and Hatori calmly stepped in, staring at me with blank green eyes. 

"Do you need anything?"

I glared back at him, anger building at this complete lack of respect Ritsu was showing me, he was meant to be serving me! I narrowed my eyes and clutched the bed, "Where's Ritsu?"

"I ordered him to sleep in a bed; it's not doing him any good to sleep in that chair. Besides you are getting well enough now—"

"Bring him back now!"

Hatori's lips pursed, "He's sleep—"

"Bring him to me now!" I growl, angered at him for making arrangements with my china doll with out consulting me first. Ritsu is mine to do with what I please, not his! I feel incensed every second Hatori takes to get Ritsu to my side; I'm going to pull the damned monkey's hair out for this insult! How dare he leave me without telling me!

The door slides open again, and Ritsu wrings his thin hands pitifully. Hatori steps in behind him as the damned monkey comes to my side and kneels by the bed, I see tears are already forming, but by the time I'm done with him he'll need major surgery. I will not allow this stupid monkey to disobey me!

I glare at Hatori until he leaves, casting one carefully blank look at Ritsu, telling the monkey without words that he will fix him up if I leave him bleeding.

I stare at the door until Hatori is gone, and Ritsu begins to whimper quietly, "I'm sorry Akito-sama, I'm so very sorry, I was so tired and Ha-san told me—"

I reach out and grab his hair, pulling him up until he can see my face, "If you were uncomfortable," I spit at him, "You should have told me!" He stares at me stupidly for too long and I twist his hair painfully, "Well?!"

"Uh . . ." tears roll from his shocked eyes, as he stutters, "I was uncomfortable, Akito-sama . . ."

Glancing at the chair, I make my decision. I don't want him to leave again, what if I need him? There's only one place left in the room for him to sleep comfortably. Pulling him by his hair, I force him on to my bed, on the side by the window, so if he tries to leave he'll have no choice but to wake me up.

"Lie down."

Ritsu lies on his back obediently, looking at me with wide eyes. I stare back at him for a moment, before I lie down beside him and mutter, "You are staying here with me. . ."

A small coo of delight is all the warning I get before Ritsu wraps his arms around my neck, forcing me to roll over and face him. The darkness almost hides his face as he nuzzles my neck. I swallow as his leg slowly rides up mine, rubbing his thigh against mine. I hear him cooing happily as he kisses me lightly, "I missed you. . ." he whispers desperately, "I didn't want to leave, I never want to leave you Akito-sama, I want to stay. . ."

I stare at his hair as the loose strands tickle my face, I can't help the words as they tumble out of my dry mouth, "Why do you love me?"

He stills in my arms, and presses his cheek against mine to whisper into my ear, "I saw you . . . before you got run over," he breaths a contented sigh, "I didn't realise it was you at all, you were looking so happy, your face tipped up and smiling . . . the petals all around you . . . you looked so handsome . . . so happy . . ."

I was thinking about my mother. How she would have loved this day. It was her birthday, the day I was run over, and I was walking around, I hadn't told anyone I was going to do it, I just felt like it. I wanted to wish my mother a happy birthday, and the sun was warm as it shone down on me. I'd closed my eyes for a fraction of a moment and foolishly stepped out onto the road. The blaring horn, a flash of red, and a woman screaming was all I remember of the impact. I felt like I was flying for a moment, and then everything faded away.

His arms tightened around me, and I responded in kind. I hooked my arm under his torso, and clamped my free hand under his thigh as it rested on my leg. 

"I saw you, the real you . . . just for a moment . . ." he whispered, so quietly, his breath was so warm as it brushed over my lobe. "And in the at moment, Akito . . . I knew . . ."

My eyes open again, and I smile, I turn my head and kiss his ear gently. I knew too.

"I can't explain it, I just knew . . ."

My hands tighten on him; my plan was falling in to perfect place. He is mine now . . .

Ritsu pulled back so he could stare adoringly into my eyes, "I knew in that moment, that I love you, Akito . . ."

I stare back at him for a moment, allowing all my happiness spill into my eyes, my plan was perfect, and soon I would be able to finish this. He is mine now, because I have his heart.

The day I was released from hospital was remarkable only because it was raining so very hard. 

Shigure walked behind us in his suit, carrying my shoulder bag, Hatori walked beside me holding a large black umbrella over me, and Ritsu – who held tightly to my arm and walked closely so he wouldn't get wet, and so if I fell over I'd have help. I was on one crutch having refusing the second. It was bad enough I had to rely on one without having to rely on the other. Besides, the monkey, dressed in the very finest of his kimonos, the one I gave him, supported me very well. We paused at the bottom of the steps so I could catch my breath. Ritsu chuckled quietly, "It's so wonderful, Akito-sama . . ." he breathed with awe, "You are so free now. . ." he smiled adoringly, "If you please, I know this little park, which is very nice for walking—"

I stare at him. Now. Now is the time. Now the hammer falls, now I break him. I smile. 

And turn my head away from him, so I can speak to Shigure. 

"Shigure." 

Ritsu falls silent at my interruption, as Shigure moves around Hatori, his own umbrella dripping with rain, as he stares at me, "Hai?"

"Arrange for Ritsu to live with his mother."

"Akito-sama?" Shigure glances at Ritsu briefly, shock slowly filtering into his eyes.

I hear a gasp from Ritsu, as I elaborate; "I want him as far away from as possible." I begin to walk again, careful over the wet concrete pavement. While Hatori and Shigure keep pace, Ritsu stands where he was for a moment before running in front of me, he stares at me, the rain quickly ruining his makeup, his hair falling from its careful swirls. The china doll melts away as the rain pounds down on him, revealing nothing but the ugly worthless monkey. 

"I . . ." he begins, "I don't understand, Akito . . ." 

"What's not to understand?" I raise an amused eyebrow, as I smirk at him. 

Why am I not feeling triumphant?

"I want you as far away from me as I can get you . . ." I snicker darkly, "Why would I want such a disgusting creature near me at all?"

What's wrong? Why can't I feel the pleasure I usually get from things like this? Ritsu's tears are running freely, his bottom lip quivers, as he begins to shake his head in denial. Beside me Shigure stares at Ritsu with sad comprehension. No doubt in his own round about way he tried to warn Ritsu off me. Hatori stares, just stares at Ritsu before looking away. I continue, I just need the build up; I need to see him crumple completely before me before I can really enjoy it.

"You disgust me . . ." I say, quietly, it lacks the force of my usual anger, even to my own ears. But Ritsu's eyes tell me he's taking it hard. I pull up my memory of the first time I found out it was him, trying to use it to spark my anger fully, "I hate you . . . you disgust me . . . I don't want you . . ."

His thin hands come up and press against his mouth, trying to muffle the painful wails from spilling out. He sinks to his knees, staring up at me with pitiful wide tearful eyes.

"I don't want you."

. . . I'm hurting him . . .

"You disgust me."

. . . because he is mine . . .

"I want you far away from."

He shakes his head, until he crumples down, his hair hiding his face from sight. Hiding him from sight. Why does that hurt? I'm destroying him, I should feel happy.

"Disgusting creature."

I leant down, I want to see his eyes, I don't want him to hide from me . . .

His head snaps up, as he feels the first tentative touch of my hand. His eyes are blurred with tears, he can't see. He swipes my hand away, almost sending me toppling. It hurts worse, it hurts so much, I don't want him to leave until I've . . .

"NO!!" My china doll screams out, her . . . his voice raw with pain as he scrambles up, his kimono ruined with the rainwater and dirt. He stumbles away from me, trying to hide his face with his hands, my china doll . . . I taste something metallic rise up in my mouth as he stumbles away from my grasp. My china doll, my poor china doll . . . I've broken him! He clutches his hair, he mustn't pull it out!! He mustn't! I hear him cry, my china doll cries out painfully. I step out of the protection of the umbrella and hobble out uncaringly into the rain. Shigure and Hatori fade from my mind, why can't I move faster?! My china doll, it hurts to see him like this. I don't want him to leave, not until I've . . .

My china doll breaks into a blind run, running away from me. How can he leave me, my china doll, how can he leave me! I'm too weak to run after him! 

I slip, and my crutch goes clattering away from me. My hip screams out with fresh pain, but I can't think of anything else but my china doll, my beautiful china doll, I didn't want to break him so!

The huge black umbrella spills over my sight as Hatori and Shigure attend me; they kneel in the rain, helping me up. I stare after my china doll as she runs, runs far away from me. I can't reach her . . . I strain to get out of Hatori's arms, desperately, am I sobbing? I kick uselessly, strain hard, all I can see is his beautiful golden brown hair streaming, the violet and cream of his kimono. My china doll will break; I don't want him to leave. I don't want him to leave! 

"Get off of me!" I shriek helplessly, the rain is blurring my vision, I am cold, I am hot, all of this happens in an instant. I want to take all the power I hold over my family, and stop time. Stop this instant, just long enough so I can get to my china doll and stop her. 

For a second it does . . .

Time stops.

My china doll stops cold, and turns to look at something.

Lights flash brightly, lighting him like an angel for a brief moment. He is beautiful, he is beautiful! My china doll is beautiful! My beautiful china doll!

And then I am betrayed.

Time resumes. The blaring of a horn, my china doll screams, crouching, holding his hands out as the car spins in the rain, follows the lights. My . . . china doll . . . flies through the air. 

Hatori and Shigure let me go, lets me slide to the ground again.

The rain is all I hear.

The blood is all I see.

The cold is all I feel.

My tears are all I taste.

"No . . ." The whimper escapes me, I hear it only absently. I want time to stop again, I want time to go back. My china doll . . . my beautiful china doll . . .

"I always knew it would happen one day . . ."

The comment is hissed darkly behind me . . . and it's the first thing I'm really aware of. I blink, staring at my face in the reflection of the glass. My face is completely blank, is this me? I'm standing here, my face completely blank. I don't look angry, I don't look sad, or happy, or anything . . . 

"He's gone too far this time."

"Shut up and sit down, Baka Neko!"

I blink slowly, as Yuki's voice silences the idiot cat. I blink again, as Tooru appears in the reflection beside me and pulls the towel around my shoulders back up. It slides down again, but I make no move to stop it. She looks at me with some degree of sadness; I wonder how long I've been standing here . . .

In the reflection, my family are sat in the corridor. The blankets around them, the fact that some are asleep tells me on some level that it's been a good few hours at the least. Tooru blinks and looks up as Yuki pulls her away from me, Kyou hisses some warning to her, but I don't hear it. In fact all I want to hear is the sound of the heart monitor and the life support machinery. 

My vision focuses on the point beyond glass and the reflections of my family's angry, pitying, loathing, upset faces. Blood spattered doctors, and blood stained nurses rush about the main bed silently, Hatori is observational of the main doctor as he struggles to save the life of my china doll. He lies there on the bed, almost hidden by the air mask, the drips, the hasty bandages, the head restraint. I see nothing of him, his hair is hidden from view, I can't see his nose, his mouth, I can't see him.

"No . . ."

The doctors glance up as monitors begin to scream.

". . . please . . ."

Nurses run around, frantically getting different drips, medicines, and tools.

". . . no . . ."

Tooru's hand touches mine, but I pull it from her and put it on the glass. My china doll is convulsing on the bed. He tenses and relaxes so rapidly, the heart monitor wails at the doctors. I see Hatori step back and glance at the glass, he sees me, he sees the others as they get up to look though the operational glass. In three swift steps, he comes over and pulls the blinds down.

The next time I see my china doll it is for ten minutes and only because Shigure and Hatori argued so passionately for me.

I can't remember asking them, I can't remember anything after the blinds fell. I stare at my china doll, Ritsu is broken, completely. They don't know if he will survive the next hour let alone the forty-eight the doctors have call 'The Danger Zone.' 

He looks so frail.

So delicate.

Of his face, all I can see are his closed eyes. They've had to shave part of his hair back, the rest is under bandages, the air mask covers the lower part of his face, there are tubes going into his nose, into his mouth. His neck is held in a restraint, and his arms are nothing but a mass of needles and casts. I want to touch him, make sure it's him I see here lying so broken. 

My head swims, my mother . . . the last time I saw my mother it was like this, the last vain desperate attempt to save her. But they couldn't save her, not when such a cruel trap has crushed her so . . .

Like my trap had done to my beloved china doll.

All I wanted was . . . am I crying? I reach out and touch the plastic sheeting surrounding the area around his bed; it feels like I am miles away from my china doll. I turn, I have to leave. 

I have to leave my china doll, this is too painful.

My china doll is broken . . . 

I had his heart, he was mine . . . and I broke him.

Do you think there is a happy ending?

For people like me? For people like you? For a story like this? 

You don't want to hear the months of self-torture I had in store for myself. The weeks when Hatori got so worried for my health, he had Shigure hold me down and he force-fed me. The months of silence, when I refused to talk to anyone, the way I just lay there and stared out the window. The months of restoration Ritsu endured as he recovered from his injuries, unlike me, he only had months to go. But I'm told he had painful months, reconstructive surgery, he still has yet to try his legs. I'm told that he's in some sort of depression; he barely can eat his food . . . if only I'd go talk to him, if only I'd see him. Tooru's so convinced that the love he has . . . had for me, the love I . . . the love I have for him . . . that it would make everything all right if I just went to see him. 

A year passes.

"Hatori."

He jerks suddenly at his desk and turns, I smile somewhat wanly from the doorway. I suppose he has every right to be surprised. I haven't talked for so long. He stares at me, regaining his composure. The floorboards creak as Shigure and Ayame lean back and stare in the room together. It would be comical if I weren't so tired; Ayame's mouth swings open, Shigure and Hatori's cigarettes threaten to fall and burn them as they stare back at me. Hatori recovers first, and stubs out his cigarette. He stands and looks at me frankly before asking me, "Akito-sama?"

I step into the room quietly, revealing I'm dressed to leave the house. Hatori glances at Shigure, who is dressed in his favourite grey writer's costume, usually if I was going out Shigure would be dressed in his suit. I shrug as their inquisitive gaze turns back on me.

"Take me to Ritsu." 

I push the door open and clear my throat. 

The nurse blinks and straitens, she scribbles one more note and then walks up to me, "He's sleeping."

My eyes flicker in her direction, and then back to my china doll. "I noticed."

She shrugs; making some inane comment about the colour in his cheeks, and then – at my lack of answer – leaves. I step up to Ritsu's bedside and stare down at him. Or her. It's hard to tell anymore.  It's like Ritsu is a blank slate now. His hair has grown back, grown longer, it's simply braided, his fringe brushed back. It's so strange to look at him . . . he isn't dressed as a woman, he isn't dressed as a woman, not a clumsy monkey, or a delicate china doll. . . he's just . . . Ritsu.

I step forward, for all this time it felt like I've been miles away from him, now I'm less than a step away. I . . . I'm nervous! I feel a smile threaten to break my cold composure. There is a soft sigh, and he awakens. The urge to run away, before I can break him again, almost forces the smile under again. Yet it gains strength when his eyes flutter open and stare out the window, the snow flutters down beautifully, despite the harsh grey of the sky. 

He blinks as he sees my reflection in the glass, his head turns slowly, and he tries to sit up. "Akito-sama . . ."

I put my arm around his back to support him as he sits, and I sink to sit on the edge of the bed. We look at each other; he seems so much more handsome, not wan, or pale, not at all sickly. Such a difference from when I last saw him. What he sees in me? I don't know, all I know is that I can't force my smile under, Ritsu is unharmed now.

He tilts his head at me, and casts his eyes down. "I'm sorry, Akito . . ."

I blink, wanting to ask for what . . . what could he possibly be sorry for now? 

He sighs and folds his hands demurely in his lap, glancing out the window as he leans back against his pillows. He breathes for a moment, staring at his fingers, before he raises his head. He stares at me with as much courage as he can muster, "Akito. I . . ." Swallowing, he gathers his resolve before it flees, "I still love you."

My right eyebrow twitches, but other than that I don't move, I don't want to scare him yet.

He rushes on, "I know that my feeling can never be reciprocated, and I will make arrangements to move with my mother, I will do everything I can to make sure our paths never meet again . . . but you . . ." he swallows again and looks down at his hands, "You can't ask me to stop loving you, I can't do it, I've tried, I've tried so hard and I just can't do it . . ." He looks up at me, "I am too bold already, but I cannot change the way I feel for you!"

He blinks as he realises I'm smiling. I blink as I realise I'm smiling. His mouth falls open as I lean forward. My eyes close as I lean my head on his chest. 

Once again I can hear his heart . . . his heart sounds so beautiful and . . . it is still mine. As mine is his.

I sigh quietly, as I feel him shift so I can lie more comfortable, I climb onto the bed with him and watch the heart monitors display, its bright neon green line moving in time with the heart under my ear. I smile gratefully; wanting to thank him for the second chance he has given me. But I can't find the words, the only words that I want to say . . . I want to tell him the truth . . .

"I don't think I've ever known anyone to be as beautiful as you . . ."

I can't believe I've said it, I can't believe I'm lying here, watching the beating green line and listening to the gentle thrum of his heart. I can't believe I feel so warm finally, as he cups my head to his chest with his soft hands, and I feel his breath deepening, I wonder if this is the last time I will be happy. My eyes grow heavy, my hands tighten around him and I hear a soft voice whisper happily.

For all I know, it could have been him who breathed the words. For all I care, it could have been me who prayed them. My eyes close and I turn my head to kiss the firm chest over the heart I held now so preciously. I was forgiven absolutely. His hands are warm as they cover my head; I hear a soft sigh echo around the room. He was loved completely.

It didn't matter which of us it was.

". . . I was born to be with you . . ."

It was true.

_~Because, if you'll let me . . ._

_For you, I'd be just that little something more_

_Just a little something_

_Just for that little smile.~_

One day, find someone . . . someone so special and say, 'I was born to be with you'. 

There is no happily ever after . . . just a future we will make. 

There is no end because I haven't finished telling this story . . .

But for now . . . it will do. 


End file.
